


A Girl Among the Musketeers

by stellecraft



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Multi, OT3, OT4, Past Athos/Milady - Freeform, Rule 63, Threesome - F/M/M, female!d'Artagnan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 77,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellecraft/pseuds/stellecraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte d'Artagnan was raised by a father who believed a woman should be able to protect herself. When her father is murdered she dresses as a man and joins the musketeers. Athos, Aramis, and Porthos take her under their wing on her journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

             Charlotte D’Artagnan held her father to her. This was the man who, despite what the village thought of him, had taught his daughter to read, write, speak her mind, and best of all fight. He always said a woman of her beauty should be able to withstand an attacks on her virtue without the help of a man. He taught her how to shoot and fight with a sword. Her favorite lesson was riding. He had bought boys clothes for her so that she wouldn’t have to start her lessons learning in skirts and threw her on top of the gentle farm animal they owned. Through his teachings she had become a great swordsman, a wonderful shot, and an expert horsewoman. Yet she had not been good enough to save him.

             They had come to this Inn in an attempt to reach Paris. The taxes had been hard on the Gascon people and they could barely afford paying them and still live through the winter. She and her father had been tasked with going to the king to ask for relief from the taxes. Instead they had been attacked by Musketeers and the one named Athos had shot and killed her father. Hands pulled her away from her father and she fought. The face of the kind innkeeper filled her vision and she stopped fighting. He led her inside to his wife who cooed at the little lass who had just lost of her father and thanked heaven that the attackers had not found her and taken her with them.

             That night Charlotte made up her mind. Rising early she stole clothes from one of the stable hands and dressed. Using her underskirt she bound her breasts flat. Quietly she left a note for the innkeeper and his wife explaining that she could not stay and that she was riding home to Gascony. Instead she turned towards Paris. At a hidden grove she stopped and took the knife she carried cutting her hair to chin length.

 

* * *

 

             Athos woke with a splitting headache. He couldn’t remember how he got home the night before only that he did and proceeded to drink himself to sleep. Leaning out the window he gathered the rope and pulled the bucket of water up. Carrying it into the room made his head spin and he braced himself against the bucket briefly before smashing through the ice with his fists and dunking his head in. Pulling himself out when he couldn’t wait to breath any longer he grabbed his sword and stumbled through a series of drills. Getting dressed he set out to find the other two men.

             He found Porthos in a tavern playing cards with a Red Guard. He watched amused, drinking from a bottle he had bought from the tavern keeper, as the Red Guard accused Porthos of cheating and suggested a duel. When the Red Guard threw Porthos’ sword to the ground and Porthos and Porthos grabbed a fork he smirked. When things began getting out of hand he moved up and smacked the Red Guard with the butt of his gun. The man went down instantly.

             “Where’s Aramis?” At Porthos’ look he sighed. “Tell me he not that stupid?”

             Aramis was enjoying himself with a redheaded who was running her finger over his scars when they heard a carriage approach. They both shot up as the Cardinal’s man knocked on the door and ran around attempting to dress. Aramis threw his sword out the window as his pistol skittered across the floor under the redhead’s bed. He slipped out the window just as the Cardinal entered the room and he hung by his fingers as the man closed the window. He could hear Porthos’ laughter and rolled his eyes. Porthos positioned himself under the hanging man and Aramis dropped into the arms of his male lover. On the way to the garrison both Porthos and Athos chastised him for almost getting caught.

             “Why not Adele?”

             “Oh I don’t know let’s think. Because she’s the mistress of the most powerful man in France.”

             “Gentleman I love her.”

             “You love her or you love stealing what belongs to the Cardinal.” They looked up with complete innocence, not certain if Treville had heard anything bad about them dueling or some such nonsense, when their captain called them into his office.

             “He looks happy.” They went up the stairs to Treville’s office and listened when he told them of the complaints he had heard about them dueling with the Cardinal’s Red Guards. Athos’ dry comment about how they would never do such a thing because that was illegal made their captain look up not believing a word they said. He sent them on a search mission for the missing group of musketeers to keep them out of trouble.

 

* * *

 

             Charlotte, now Charles, D’artagnan entered a small inn on the outskirts of Paris. Opening her purse she asked for a room. The innkeeper’s questions about lice and crabs didn’t faze her, she had been asked worse before, and she settled into her room. At dinner she spotted the Spanish man and his Lady enter and true to her nature gave a smart ass comment that garnered the attention of the Spanish man. The man backed down when the Lady told him to but he could feel her eyes on her as she walked up the stairs. When d’Artagnan walked up the stairs and passed the Lady she noticed her pistol was gone. The Lady had lifted it as she walked by her.

             When she was pushed back into the room the Lady was sleeping in she responded as the though she aught but internally she was freaking out. The Lady smiled.

             “I know your secret. You still walk as though you are wearing skirts and your binding is showing under your clothes.” At d’Artagnan’s gasp of surprise she smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Now sleep. In the morning I will show you how to bind down without your bindings showing.”

             D’Artagnan woke to find a bloody knife in the pillow next to her. Getting dressed she headed out of her room still carrying the knife to discover the Lady’s companion dead in his bath. When the innkeepers shrieked at her she ran into her room, dropping the knife, and barricaded the door. Running to the window she jumped out and landed wrong. She ran, gripping her side, until she came to the market. Hiding behind the pillar she grabbed the young woman in front of her.

             “I’ll give you five lieve to kiss me.” Leaning in she jammed her mouth against the woman’s waiting until the innkeeper and the men ran past letting the woman go d’Artagnan sighed. “That actually worked.” Unfortunately the woman pulled a knife and d’Artagnan was forced to defend herself against the woman until the misunderstanding was sorted out. After asking, and not receiving, directions to the musketeers’ garrison she started out only to pass out in the middle of the market.

             D’Artagnan came to in a bed with the woman she had kissed sitting next to her, whipping her brow. Her hand reached out and she grabbed it realizing she was shirtless. Running one hand down to her chest she realized that her makeshift binding had been replaced with the top portion of a corset that ran from right below her breasts to right above. She glanced questioningly at the woman who only smiled.

             “The bandages, if you could call them that, were cutting lines into your flesh. This will bind them down uniformly without the bulges and bumps of the bandages. At least I hope.”

             “I can’t stay here I must go. I have an appointment with the musketeer Athos.” With that she got up, dressed, and left. Making her way to the musketeers’ garrison was painful, the new binding was tight and she had a bit of trouble getting used to it and her ribs protested the beating they had taken when she had fallen out of the window, but she did it. She had to seek revenge for her father after all.

 

* * *

 

             Athos was coming down the stairs when the youth entered the garrison.

             “I’m looking for Athos.”

             “You found him.” Athos turned a couple steps up. Aramis turned as well.

             “My name is d’Artagnan of Lupiac in Gascony. Prepare to fight one of us dies here.”

             “Now that’s the way to make an entrance.” Athos glared at Aramis who shrugged. “It is.”

             “Can I ask why?”

             “You murdered my father.”

             “You’re mistaken. I am not the man you are looking for.”

             “MURDERER!” The youth rushed him.

             Athos was surprised by the youth’s skill. He had been taught well. Of course Athos himself wasn’t going against the youth with his full strength. He didn’t want to kill the boy just teach him a lesson. When the boy wouldn’t stop when he stabbed the knife over his head and when Porthos and Aramis joined in he was pleasantly surprised. Despite going against three musketeers the boy was holding his own. When they got him pinned against the stairs he could tell that the boy wasn’t scared.

             “Stop fighting all of you.” Constance strode into the garrison. “Is three against one fair?”

             “We weren’t going to kill him.” Athos put up his sword turning towards her.

             “Were we?” Porthos sounded surprised.

             “Next time let us know.” Aramis sheathed his sword as well.

             “Madame Bonacieux, what are you doing here?”

             “I followed he…him because I knew he was going to do something stupid.”

             “I don’t need you to protect me.”

             “Don’t say another word.”

             “Him I’m not sure about. Her I like.” Aramis joked as the Red Guard entered the garrison alongside Treville. Constance moved closer to d’Artagnan to keep her from doing something else stupid.

             At Treville’s question Athos gave his report. Then Treville handed him over to the Red Guards. Aramis and Porthos sheathed their swords with audible clinks as d’Artagnan looked confused. She had been certain that this was the man who had killed her father. Yet he had claimed to be innocent and his captain believed so too. Athos handed over his sword and turned towards the youth.

             “I’m not the man you’re looking for.”

             D’Artagnan watched him walk off surrounded by guards and realized that if he wanted to he could have fought his way out. She let Constance lead her back to the house she had woken up in only an hour earlier.

 

* * *

 

             Aramis and Porthos watched as their friend was falsely accused. Treville had told them not to do anything while before the King in case they added to the charges or brought them up on charges. He needed them to clear Athos’ name. The Cardinal trotted out real witnesses to the crimes Athos had supposedly committed. Instead of yelling that he was innocent Athos stood and proclaimed, much like a noble, that he had never seen the men before and that he had been falsely accused. Treville stepped in at one point to add his opinion but was brushed off.

             Porthos and Aramis thought of the youth when the King sentenced Athos to be executed. He had seen what had happened at that inn and would be able to explain it to the King. They followed Treville out of the audience chamber and waited until he had finished his talk with the King. With Treville’s order they went to find the youth. Knowing Madame Bonacieux had probably taken him back to her house they headed there. Entering the house they bowed to her, gave only pleasantries to her husband, and headed upstairs to the spare room. Entering it without knocking they found d’Artagnan lacing a corset over her chest to bind it flat. She stopped what she was doing and stared at them. They stared back.

             “If you are going to stay then either one of you turn around and the other help me lace this infernal thing or you both turn around.” Porthos instantly turned around while Aramis moved to help d’Artagnan lace it up tightly. She braced her hand on her knees while he pulled the strings tight.

             “You’re a girl?” Aramis tied the laces in a knot tucking it and the extra lacing under the edge of the corset. D’Artagnan reached for her shirt and pulled it on. The shape the corset was instantly hidden under the billowing fabric. Standing she stretched letting the corset settle into place.

             “Yes. My father taught me to read and write but his education didn’t end there. He taught me to ride, fight with a sword, and shoot. He said a woman should always know how to protect herself.” Porthos turned around at her words.

             “Why did you not go back home after your father died? I mean you’re in danger alone on the road.”

             “I was in more danger at home. The lord had his eye on me and none of the village would protect me if he choose to come claim me as his own because I was considered different. Father was the only thing keeping him from laying a hand on me. With him dead I couldn’t go home. As for the travel I dressed as a man. No one notices a young man riding for Paris to better himself in the city.”

             Porthos stared at the transformation. He had seen it a few times in the Court of Miracles, young woman binding their breasts for street shows and the like, but he never thought that he would see it outside of that place. Yet here was a young woman who choose to do it and seemed not to care what others thought. Aramis nudged him as he stood with his mouth open. He closed it with an audible snap.

             “We need your help finding who killed your father. Those musketeers who attacked you, would you know any of them again?”

             “They all wore masks.” At their dejected faces she said “But I shot one of them. His body might still be there at the inn.”

             “All right saddle up we’re leaving.” At Porthos’ look Aramis shrugged. “What? She’s a good fighter and if you hadn’t noticed we’re a man short. We might as well bring her along.” D’Artagnan rushed to do as she was told smiling at Constance on the way out. The other two men followed her down slower. Aramis passed Constance some money on his way out.

             “For the rent for that one.” He nodded in the direction d’Artagnan had run off in. “Come to us if d’Artagnan should ever fall short.” Leaning down so only she could hear he whispered, “It will do her good to be living in a respectable house.” Winking at Constance, he kissed her hand and left. Porthos just shook his head.

             “We’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.”

 

* * *

 

             They road hard to the inn d’Artagnan had stayed at that night. At the inn d’Artagnan went to talk to the innkeeper who recognized her instantly.

             “I thought you had gone home. Now you ride up dressed as a man, your hair cut, and accompanied by two men, neither of whom look like gentleman.” The innkeeper kept going until Aramis cut in.

             “It is safer for her to ride as a man monsieur. You are the only one in these parts who know her as female. To prevent the lovely young lady’s reputation from being ruined as we did the King’s business we insisted she dress as a man. The hair cutting was her idea but it will grow back. Once we are done with this she is putting on skirts and we are escorting her back to Gascony. For now we wish to keep her safe and out of the eye of scrutiny. We would appreciate if you could tell us where the body of the man who died that night is so that we can be on our way.” Ignoring d’Artagnan’s red cheeks, he would have to break her of that habit if she were to stay on as an apprentice musketeers, he listened intently to the innkeeper. As they rode off she kicked him.

             “I don’t need protecting.”

             “I am aware. May I remind you that I fought you? However it was the quickest way to get him to give us the information we needed. For the record I have no intentions on escorting you back to Gascony. The way I see it if you are so intent on dressing like a boy then we might as well put it to use. As a musketeer perhaps. I’m sure Athos would be willing to take you on as an apprentice. Provided he doesn’t know about the whole situation at first. He can be a bit stubborn sometimes.” Porthos was already investigating the body when they dismounted. “What do you think Porthos? Would d’Artagnan make a good musketeer?”

             “Leave me out of this. I don’t want to think about anything but saving Athos until this is over.”

             “There are two bullet holes.”

             “What?” Porthos pulled the jacket straight to examine it.

             “I only shot once.” D’Artagnan was smug about her accuracy. Aramis rolled his eyes and shifted the left side of the jacket looking under it.

             “There’s no corresponding wound.”

             “Meaning?” Porthos was slow on the uptake sometimes.

             “He wasn’t wearing it when the hole was created.” Aramis raised his eyes in approval. D’Artagnan was smart.

             “It most likely belongs to the missing musketeers.” D’Artagnan followed the men back to the horses and mounted when they did. They followed the track through the forest until the found the perfect ambush sight. The crows alerted them that there were dead bodies around. When the found the d’Artagnan swore and went to vomit against a tree. Porthos went over and offered his canteen.

             “They shot them like animals and stripped them of their uniforms. Then they left them to be eaten by crows. It’s not pleasant but if you stay on you will see worse.”

             “I’ll get better I swear. I’m just not feeling good.” D’Artagnan fainted and Porthos caught her. Aramis came over and looked the girl over taking her pulse and checked to see if she was blading anywhere.

             “Stress I think. She’ll be fine once she rests. She can ride with me if you lead her horse.” Aramis climbed on his horse and Porthos passed her up. She was lighter than she should have been and Aramis made a note to feed her up so that she could grow strong. Reaching under her cloak and shirt he loosened the ties binding her chest a bit then positioned her so that she would be leaned against him covered by his cloak.

 

* * *

 

             D’Artagnan woke a little while down the road and tried to insist she ride her own horse. Aramis wouldn’t let her and kept her within the circle of his arms as he rode telling her to sleep. As they neared Paris he woke the dozing young woman up and Porthos lifted her on to her horse. Her color much better, she rode into Paris alongside them to find the Red Guard Porthos had won the Spanish gold off of.

             They found him in a tavern. Porthos handled the actual knocking out and carrying, strung between Aramis and Porthos he looked like a drunk man being escorted to his rooms by friends, except that they weren’t taking him to his rooms. They took him to an empty warehouse and tied his hands together. Aramis pushed d’Artagnan to the wall and smiled.

             “Stay here. Don’t get in our way. We’ve done this a thousand times.” He took d’Artagnan’s hand and kissed it enjoying the blush that spread up her face. “Don’t worry Mademoiselle, we will find who killed your father and with your help we will clear Athos’ name.” Porthos rolled his eyes at his lover’s flirting. He had to admit that there was something special about the young woman however. He needed to find Flea one day and get her to teach d’Artagnan the ways she turned herself into a man for her performances.

             The cloth bag was ripped from their captive’s head and Aramis and Porthos started their easy banter.

             “Time to pay the reckoning for Cornea.”

             “I bet he is going to say ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’”

             “And then we’ll have to hurt him.”

             “At which point he’ll suddenly remember he killed him.” The two of them looked at each other. “Why wait. Let’s just hurt him now.”

             “Could go like that or we can just skip to the confession part. It would save us time and you pain.” Aramis got up close in his face. “A lot of pain.”

             The man broke. “I was just following orders.” Porthos looked over at Aramis grinning.

             “He was just following orders.”

             “Well we’d better let him go then.” Porthos yanked the man up at Athos’ words.

             “I can’t tell you they’d kill me.” Aramis separated the two pushing the man back against a support beam.

             “No need for that. We aren’t brutes. We’ll just shoot him.” Aramis collected his rifle and started the psychological torture of talking about how good a shot he was. He slowly loaded the rifle while Porthos tied the man to the support beam. When he got to the actual shooting part he grinned and pressed the trigger. Porthos leant into the man’s face.

             “Bang.”

             “Oh. I forgot the ball.” D’Artagnan exhaled quietly from the place she had moved to behind Aramis. Aramis held up the ball, “This time.” As he moved to drop it into the barrel the man broke.

             “It was Captain Godet.” He continued with his story making sure to emphasize that he had not known what was going to happen and that he hadn’t the stomach to continue which is why he was in Paris and not at the camp in the ruins. D’Artagnan moved forward grabbing the man by the throat.

             “Who murdered my father?”

             “Godet! It was Godet. He did it to blacken Athos’ name.” Porthos yanked d’Artagnan away from the man moving her next to Aramis. Aramis took her wrist as though to hold her back but instead stroked the inside with his thumb to calm her. Porthos moved in when the man claimed to be a solider like them choking off his air supply. After he agreed to lead them to the Godet and his men they untied him from the post and tied his hands together. He led them out of the building and towards the gates. Aramis dropped back to walk next to d’Artagnan.

             “Are you all right Mademoiselle?”

             “I’m fine Aramis truly.”

             “I think you should sit this one out.” He held up his hand to stall the inevitable argument of the matter. “You were choking that man in there. I don’t want to think about what you will do in a fight. I couldn’t lose you mon amour.” He lifted her hand and kissed it again. She blushed and removed her hand from his grip.

             “Go flirt with whatever mistress you are keeping.” At his look she smiled. “I’m not oblivious you know. You’re the type to have a mistress tucked away in some house somewhere in Paris awaiting your arrival.” At his shake of his head that she could read him that well after such a short time she grinned outright. “As for the fight I am coming. I owe it to Athos.”

 

* * *

 

             The fight itself was quick and brutal. Constance served as a good fake prostitute and distracted the guard so Porthos could knock him out. D’Artagnan could tell Aramis was waiting to get a moment alone with her so that he could yell at her about running in screaming Godet’s name. They had to report to the King first so that they could stop Athos from being shot. With the King’s release order the rode to the prison he was being kept. They could hear him shouting when they entered the main courtyard and ran knowing it was about to happen. Aramis started down the stairs holding the King’s papers in his hand.

             “Hold your fire! If I were you I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to die.” Holding up the papers he smiled as Porthos went to the gunmen and forced them to raise their rifles. “Your release. Signed by the king.” Athos collapsed against the wall and Aramis gestured for the man with the keys. “Get these chains off him.” D’Artagnan started down the stairs and waited at the bottom as Athos hugged his friends. She played with her gloves as he approached her. They made eye contact and he nodded slightly. She smiled as he walked up the stairs and she fell in behind him. Aramis and Porthos joined her.

             “We won’t tell him until you’re ready.” The deep voice was Porthos.

             “At this current point in time he likes you.”

 

* * *

 

             That night at the tavern Athos sat apart from them. Aramis explained the issue between Athos and the mysterious woman who died. They told her all they knew about their quiet companion and then about themselves. When d’Artagnan got up to leave Aramis went along with her and walked her home. When she entered the door to Constance’s house he left heading to Adele’s rooms intending to tell her he was done only to discover that she had left to go to the Cardinal’s estates. His pistol was handed back to him by her maid.

             Porthos made sure Athos made it home without falling in a sewer. As he carried the man up the steps Athos grinned ear to ear.

             “D’Artagnan would make a pretty girl wouldn’t he?” Porthos laughed and Athos dropped back into his drunken stupor. He had said much the same thing about Aramis one time while he was drunk so Porthos didn’t think much of it.


	2. Chapter 2

           Porthos and Aramis, true to their word, had talked Athos into taking d’Artagnan on. Every day she ran from Constance’ house to the garrison to train. She was getting better under Athos’ tutelage. Aramis and Porthos helped as well increasing her accuracy at shooting and teaching her hand to hand fighting techniques. The two men always walked her through whatever they were doing showing her step by step how to do each kick, roll, and hit. They made her practice slowly until it was muscle memory then sped up. Athos would just come at her like a charging bull forcing her the defend herself. Despite his tactics, her skill at sword fighting was growing.

           Aramis had taken to inviting her out to eat with him and Porthos. She suspected him of feeding her up but complied especially after the first time. When she had refused Porthos had grabbed her arm and dragged her along. They both knew where to get the best food on a budget and insisted on paying for her. She suspected them of paying her rent as well. Every time she had gone to Constance to pay the woman had told her it was paid already.

           Watching from the upstairs walkway one day Treville smiled to see d’Artagnan holding his own against Athos. Aramis came to stand beside him.

           “You were right about that one.” Treville was a good eye of skill and had taken very little convincing about letting d’Artagnan join them as a recruit.

           “I’d say he’s just about ready to try for his commission.”

           “We’ll I have a few missions that would work. We’ll talk about it after Vadim’s plot is figured out. He won’t talk.”

           “Put d’Artagnan undercover. He doesn’t have a commission so if he supposedly drops out after we abandon him to the Red Guard it won’t seem suspicious.” They hadn’t noticed Athos coming up behind them.

           “I am not about to endanger that boy Athos.” Aramis was glad Treville had said something. He had been about to blurt out why it would be a really horrible idea for d’Artagnan to go undercover in the prison.

           “That boy has picked up on everything that Porthos, Aramis, and I have taught him faster than most other recruits. I’m sure he could hold his own until we can pull him out if need be.”

           “I’ll do it. Whatever it is.” D’Artagnan had snuck up on them as well Porthos trailing her. The look on her face told Aramis that if he so much as mentioned that it was too dangerous for her she would gut him. Treville nodded eventually.

           “Very well then. Athos, Aramis, Porthos, I leave it up to you to get d’Artagnan thrown in prison.”

 

* * *

 

 

           They had come up with the idea for d’Artagnan to be caught in a duel with another man. They weren’t concerned that she would get hurt, as Athos had said “he had trained d’Artagnan and therefore he couldn’t be beaten”, but Aramis and Porthos were worried that d’Artagnan’s secret would get out. They had tried to talk her out of it on many occasions but she wouldn’t budge.

           Aramis clasped her shoulder. “What’s the vital thing to remember in a dual?”

           “Honor.” Porthos lightly smacked the back of her head and she gave him a slightly annoyed look.

           “Not getting killed. Alright? Biting, kicking, gouging, it’s all good.”

           “I was raised to fight like a gentleman.”

           “Were you raised to die young?” Aramis’ hand on her shoulder gripped tighter.

           Athos, sensing the worry in his friends’ actions, slipped in front of d’Artagnan looking her in the eyes. “You don’t have to do this. Its musketeer business.” Generally when Aramis and Porthos were on edge it was a good idea to at least pay attention.

           D’Atagnan looked straight into his face. “I can handle it.” She held out her glove and Athos took it, walking to the center of the road. At the raised arm the other man started charging down the road. Athos dropped his arm and dodged out of the way as the fight began. He moved to stand with Aramis and Porthos.

           D’Artagnan had lost her dagger on the first attack but was holding her own against the man. He knocked her down and she tried to get up but he kicked her again. She saw Porthos move and Aramis grab his arm. She grinned and kicked her opponent in the crotch getting up. She could hear Porthos’ laugh and his muttered comment about teaching her that move but she focused on fighting. Quickly she gained the upper hand and hit the man in the face. Following the drills she had run with Athos time and time again she disengaged and reengaged spinning around while pushing her opponent’s sword above her head. He wasn’t as good as Athos and she could hold her own against her mentor. She unarmed him and pushed him back moving to press her sword against his throat.

           “Red Guards!” At Aramis shout everyone started running. She grabbed her dagger, not something she would have normally done if she were really running, and turned then spun around again running away from the man on horseback. She led them on a merry chase through the woods grinning before finally slowing down slightly so that they could catch her.

           Athos stopped to watch d’Artagnan run and Aramis and Porthos skidded to a halt next to him. “Nothing more we can do for him.”

           “No point in all of us getting arrested” Porthos muttered.

           “He knows the musketeer motto,” Aramis shrugged. “Every man for himself.” He clapped the other two on their backs and took off again. Porthos stayed a moment longer to watch d’Artagnan get hit down by the Red Guard then took off after the other two.

 

* * *

 

 

           They were expecting the dressing down that they got from Treville. Despite knowing what they had done was under orders he had to lecture them to keep up appearances. They stood in formation with the rest of the musketeers trying not to grin.

           “You all knew the penalties of dueling and yet you let d’Artagnan go ahead regardless.” Treville was pacing up and down in front of the ranks like a tiger waiting for someone to talk back.

           “I don’t like this. I’ve never been unpopular before.” Aramis mutter only loud enough so Porthos could hear him.

           “Try trading places with me.”

           “But you’re used to it. I’m more the romantic hero type.” Treville heard the last bit and got up in Aramis’ face.

           “D’Artagnan is in prison because of you.” He stared Aramis down for a bit then continued. “Alone.” Moving to Porthos he nearly spat in the bigger man’s face. “Friendless.” He continued to Athos who stared straight ahead. “Condemned.” He got up in Athos’ face but the man didn’t even flinch. “I hope you’re very proud.” He turned and headed up the stairs his yell of dismissed echoing after him. The other men of the regiment shoved passed them like they weren’t even there. After everyone had left they headed up to the captain’s rooms.

           “D’Artagnan was taken to the Châtelet Prison at ten this morning. He’s awaiting execution at His Majesty’s pleasure.” Treville paused. “Congratulations. You had me convinced and I knew the whole thing was a charade.”

           “You certainly fooled the rest of the men.” Athos walked away from the desk as he spoke.

           “They hate us.” Aramis gestured wildly.

           “They think we betrayed our friend.” Porthos was used to betrayal having grown up in the Court of Miracles. He knew the men would come back to them once they knew the truth.

           “Provoking a duel was a brilliant idea. The world had to believe that d’Artagnan’s arrest was genuine.”

           “I still think one of us should have done it.” Aramis was going to drag his opinion of the whole idea around for as long as anyone would listen. He didn’t like putting d’Artagnan in danger without him, Porthos, and Athos at her side. That way they could at least watch each other’s backs. “He’s a Gascon farm boy, promising but raw. There’s too much at stake.” The conversation evolved into how d’Artagnan needed to prove herself sometime and Aramis gave up. He wasn’t going to get her out of the prison where a guard could accidently find out her secret. He swore to himself that if one did he would hunt the guard down and kill him to protect her.

           They topic of concertation turned to the gunpowder Vadim had stolen and the plan for finding it, finding his men, and discovering the plan. Treville left them with the information that they were assigned to the Queen’s protection detail on her trip to the Châtelet tomorrow. One of them could break away and check on d’Artagnan though how they were going to manage that while she was in a cell with Vadim he had no clue. Perhaps Athos could go pretend to gloat at her or something. He didn’t know. All Aramis knew was that he wanted a stiff drink and a lady to spend the night with to take his mind off their missing member.

           Porthos leaned in and whispered in his ear. “We need to tell Athos about d’Artagnan. At the very least he won’t send her out on this types of missions alone.”

           “After this is over. We don’t need him running off after her and ruining her cover.” Aramis’ gut clenched at the thought of breaking his promise to d’Artagnan but Athos needed to know.

           They walked down the stairs following Athos. Neither of them noticed Treville had been close enough to hear. He shook his head and decided to ignore it. D’Artagnan was one of their best recruits and as long as he didn’t know anything he wouldn’t incriminate the boy, girl, whatever d’Artagnan actually was.

           The next day he was down in the yard preparing for the Queen’s escort to the Châtelet when Monsieur Bonacieux entered the garrison trailed by Constance. While they went up to his office to talk about the fabric and d’Artagnan. Treville made a mental note to pass some money to Aramis and Porthos quietly to pay for the month’s rent d’Artagnan owed. He had heard them arguing whose turn it was to pay once and figured out that they were paying for d’Artagnan’s room and board as well as their own. While he was studiously ignoring the question of d’Artagnan’s gender, he saw no harm in supporting d’Artagnan financially while d’Artagnan got settled and obtained a commission. All through Aramis and Porthos of course. He shut his office door in the man’s face. Monsieur Bonacieux always was a bit of a stuffed shirt so he didn’t even feel bad about it.

           Aramis spotted Constance first. He walked over to her chewing his breakfast and raised his hat. “Beautiful morning Madame Bonacieux.”

           “Doubt if it looks so good from inside the Châtelet prison.”

           “You’ve heard about d’Artagnan.” Athos and Porthos came up behind Aramis.

           “Well these stories can be greatly exaggerated.”

           “Really? I was told that you led him into danger then abandoned him.”

           “That one’s about right.” Porthos cleared his throat and looked embarrassed.

           “He’s your friend. What are you going to do about it?”

           “We’ve been getting along well but I wouldn’t say friends exactly.” Aramis moved within arm’s reach of Constance. Without warning she reached out and slapped him across the face.

           “He trusted you.” Before her husband, who was nearly shouting apologies, reached her she muttered under her breath so only Aramis could hear. “You promised me you’d protect her.” Aramis looked deep into her eyes bowing slightly begging her to see the truth as her husband grabbed her arm and lead her away. Aramis turned to watch them leave pressing his handkerchief to his face.

           “God. I love that in a woman.” Aramis grinned after her.

           “What passion?” Porthos sounded as amused as Aramis was.

           “Violence.”

 

* * *

 

           D’Artagnan was thrust into a cell with Vadim. The guard’s hadn’t searched her, the head of the prison had given orders for her to relinquish her weapons and that she was to be housed with Vadim without the search, but she had been afraid they would anyway. If they had searched her they would have found the corset binding her chest flat and she would have most likely taken off for entertainment instead of put in the cell to do her job. She didn’t fight back as they threw her into the cell.

           “Hey Vadim, company for you.” The guard kicked her in the ribs and she coughed. Curling up in the corner near the cell door she fell asleep.

           She awoke to a clinging noise and saw Vadim flipping a gold coin into the air and catching it. He was staring at her and she resisted the urge to check her binding with her hands to make sure that her breasts weren’t showing. Vadim began preforming party tricks with the coin, making it disappear and reappear.

           “How’d you do that?”

           “The secret to a good trick, make the person look the wrong way.” The cell door clanged open at Vadim’s words and d’Artagnan took the bowl offered to her. She pulled a mouse out by its tail holding it up.

           “What’s this?”

           “Mutton stew.”

           “You know mutton is the one that goes bahhhhh and has wool on it.” The guard knocked the bowl out of her hands and struck her over the head a few times.

           “You can starve for all I care musketeer.” He left. She glanced over at Vadim who was watching her closely.

           “I’m no musketeer. They betrayed me and I hate them for it.” Vadim retreated into the shadows at her words.

           A while later he stood up and walked towards her before falling to the ground in an appetent fit. D’Artagnan banged on the cell bars hard and calling for a guard. She was not about to lose her chance at a commission because her target dropped dead. When the jailer came in he took the coin and did nothing about Vadim’s fit. He was at the door about to lock up when Vadim sat up holding his keys

           “Looking for these.” He grabbed the man yanking him into the cell and knocking him out. D’Artagnan grasped her chance.

           “You still have to get passed the guards. Take me with you Vadim.” She stared at the man. “Don’t leave me here.” She added just the right amount of desperation because he came in and removed her ankle shackle. She followed him through the prison as he unlocked the other cells letting the other men out. They ran for the door knocking out the guards that got in their way.

 

* * *

 

 

           Up above the gates to the prison opened and the Queen, Treville, Aramis, Athos, and Porthos walked through followed by some more musketeers. Athos waited through the ceremonial speech of clemency before, at Treville’s nod, he turned and walked towards the back of the group.

           “I’m going to check on d’Artagnan.” He walked to the door that led to the cells. The guards opened it just as the wave of prisoners hit them. Athos saw d’Artagnan and Vadim go down another tunnel and trusted that the Gascon knew what he was doing. Athos himself backed out the door giving himself room to draw and fire.

           “Prisoners escaping.” Athos yelled not knowing if his companions heard him. He shot knowing they would at least here that the clobbered the prisoner who followed after with the butt of his pistol. He saw other prisoners running past him and heard Porthos’ bull like roar as he came charging down the steps. Porthos choose to fight the men with bare hands instead of his weapons. While Athos was distracted three men grabbed him shoving him against the wall.

           Aramis grabbed the pistol out of the Red Guard’s hands. “Don’t shoot! There’s a musketeer down there.” He took careful aim at one of the men holding Athos only to have one of the prisoners get passed Porthos. He hit the prisoner with the butt of the pistol and threw his weight across the stunned man. He took aim at one of the men holding Athos again and shoot killing the man. Athos wrenched himself free and knocked out his two attackers.

           Down below Vadim led them through the tunnels to a small door. D’Artagnan followed in his footsteps doggedly, the chains on her hands clanking quietly. They surfaced right by the main gate. D’Artagnan saw Treville escorting the Queen who looked worried. She was moving fast holding her skirts up so that she wouldn’t trip. When Treville left the Queen alone to join the fight Vadim made his move. He bolted up the steps and wrapped his chains around the Queen holding the pistol he had grabbed in the fighting to her head. D’Artagnan moved behind him.

           “Stop or your Queen dies.” Athos ran up through the doors and stopped seeing d’Artagnan behind Vadim.

           “Hold your fire.” As the man in charge of the guard for the Queen Treville was in the position of power at that moment. D’Artagnan made eye contact with first Aramis, then Porthos, then lastly Athos, nodding to each of them slightly.

           “Back.” At Vadim’s shouted command men moved back but they didn’t lower their weapons. D’Artagnan grabbed Vadim’s shoulder guiding him backwards slowly. “Open the gate.” D’Artagnan made eye contact with Treville and nodded slightly. Treville nodded to the head of the prison.

           “Do as he says.” The head of the prison sent men to open the gates. On the other side men rushed in to protect Vadim’s back. One of the men of horseback shouted.

           “Vadim!”

           Without turning to d’Artagnan Vadim smiled. “You see? I told you they’d just let me walk out of here.” D’Artagnan moved to mutter in his ear.

           “Hurt the Queen and we’re all dead.” He gave the Queen a brief look. “You don’t need her anymore. Let’s go.” D’Artagnan took a step towards the door. “Come on.”

           “Your Majesty, my apologies. I hope that, apart from this, you’ve enjoyed your trip.” Vadim kissed her temple then raised his arms so the chains slipped over her head. He shoved the Queen in the same motion as he turned and ran. The head of the prison yelled and Aramis ran forward.

           “Shoot them.” Treville tried to grab the head of the prison’s pistol as it fired.

           “Weapons down.” Only Porthos could be that loud Aramis supposed. Vadim’s men fired back as Aramis reached the Queen grabbing her and dragging her down to the ground with him on top of her, protecting her. From his vantage point he saw d’Artagnan hop on a horse and ride off with Vadim. The rest of the men either ran or died. When the coast was clear Aramis helped the Queen to her feet. He followed Treville and Athos out of the prison keeping an arm around the Queen, steadying her. Porthos came up on his other side in case she fainted.

           “What in the name of God is he doing?” Athos was annoyed and Treville was just as irritated.

           “Do you still think d’Artagnan was the right man for the job?” Aramis spat out disgusted. Athos glanced at him and bowed slightly to the Queen. Aramis helped her to sit on the wall and took her face in his hands. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. Look at me. Look at me. It’s over.” He started with his checks for a concussion getting the Queen to state her full name, the King’s name, the current date, and her date of birth. When he was convinced that she didn’t have a concussion he left her with Porthos.

           “How is she?” Treville came up behind him.

           “She’s got no obvious injuries that I can tell and no concussion. It would be wise to call the physician when she gets back to the palace however. I can’t be too sure with my field checks.”

 

* * *

 

 

           They had returned to the palace and made sure to escort the Queen to her rooms. Now they were dancing attendance on the Cardinal.

           “My God what is Vadim planning?” The Cardinal was pacing around his room. “A war? Rebellion? I must know. Keep me informed of developments.” Athos and Treville turned to leave. They were halfway across the room when the Cardinal spoke again. “My men have orders to shoot Vadim on sight. If d’Artagnan is with him he too is in grave danger. His life is in his own hands now.” Athos and Treville left.

           “We need to get d’Artagnan out.” Treville was insistent. He wasn’t about to let the Gascon die because things had gone too far.

           “I am inclined to agree but not right now. He can take care of himself.” Athos heard Aramis and Porthos fall in behind them. They had been visiting the Queen on her request. Aramis sported a new crucifix. Porthos was still shaking his head over whatever antics Aramis had gotten himself up to.

           “It’s not that he can take care of himself. There’s something else you need to know…” Aramis was cut off.

           “I however do not. I do not want to even hear of it.” Treville rested a hand on Aramis’ shoulder. Aramis gaped at him. “If I do not know for certain I can’t take action on it.”

           “You know.” Porthos was gaping at Treville as well.

           “I suspect. I overheard you two talking at the start of this mess. Next time be more discrete.” Treville pulled away. Athos looked thoroughly confused.

           “What do you three know that I do not?”

           “Not here. We’ll tell you tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan had made it to Vadim’s hideout. She watched as the other man who had been on horseback cracked open the chains on Vadim’s wrists. She was seated on the floor her legs spread fidgeting with her cuffs.

           “My friend, Felix, thinks I was wrong to bring you here. He doesn’t like musketeers.”

           “I told you I’m not a musketeer.” She clanged her chains together. “I’m a wanted man on the run. What else have I got?”

           “Let me suggest another possibility.” Vadim dragged the stool he had been using over and yanked her wrist onto it. Felix stood behind her and held her down as Vadim placed the chisel against one of her fingers. “We’re going to play a little game to find out the truth. I’m going to hack your fingers off one at a time until you admit to being a spy.” She struggled slightly against Felix but held Vadim’s eyes.

           “And what if I’m not?”

           “Then you’ll be counting on your toes.” Vadim shrugged. “But you’ll be alive.” He raised the hammer and brought it down moving the chisel last second to strike off one of the cuffs. He removed the other one as well. D’Artagnan rubbed her wrists waiting for him to speak again. She could tell that Felix was greatly annoyed by these actions.

           “I know a man’s character by looking into his eyes. I’m never wrong. He’s good.” Vadim walked away trailing Felix who was arguing with him. D’Artagnan relaxed against the wall trying to figure out how to get a message to Athos. She only half paid attention to Vadim’s recruitment speech about building a better France. She asked the right questions at the right times and he was obviously overjoyed with her response.

           That night she followed Vadim out while everyone else was sleeping. When he went into the house of the woman who had greeted him so enthusiastically she stopped one of the men on the street. Once she had figured out the name of the woman she wondered through the streets hoping to find Athos, Aramis, or Porthos. Instead she ran into Felix. He pulled his gun on her.

           “You have five seconds to explain what you’re doing before I blow your brains into the next street.”

           “I was visiting my mistress.” It might work considering what Vadim was doing.

           “Prove it.” D’Artagnan sighed and led him through the streets. Now she needed to produce a mistress she didn’t have and she still needed to get her message to Athos. She realized what she could do and headed towards her lodgings. Constance would go along with whatever crazy scheme she came up with. When they reached the house Constance was coming out. D’Artagnan nodded at her.

           “That’s her.”

           “How do I even know you’ve met her?” d’Artagnan nodded and pulled away from Felix walking straight towards Constance. She grabbed Constance around the waist and pulled her into a kiss. Pulling away she raised her finger to her lips shushing her.

           “We’re being watched. And for God’s sake kiss me back and make it look good.” D’Artagnan leaned in again and kissed her. Constance responded and spun them so that her back was to Felix.

           “You’re a fugitive. Guards are everywhere.”

           “Whatever you’ve heard about me don’t believe it.” The maid stared at them and Constance gestured with her head for the maid to go inside. Pulling d’Artagnan into a hug she muttered.

           “You’re making a habit of this.”

           “Believe me I wouldn’t unless I had to.” Constance pulled back looking affronted.

           “That’s flattering.” She slapped her lightly. “No tongues.” D’Artagnan brushed her hair from her face and kissed her again before pulling away slightly.

           “Go to Athos. Tell him to get here as soon as possible.” She kissed Constance’s cheek and pushed her gently towards the door leading into the house. She jogged back over to Felix. “She’s in a good mood. I may be some time.”

           “Vadim will hear of this.” As far as threats went Felix’s was weak. It wasn’t as if Vadim was doing the exact same thing right now.

           “Tell him.” D’Artagnan shrugged. She was certain the worst she would get was a slap on the wrist. She walked into the house as Felix left.

 

* * *

 

 

           They had gone to Athos’ house after muster out. Aramis poured them all some wine. He knew it was best to spring the news of D’Artagnan’s gender on Athos while he wasn’t exactly sober but wasn’t exactly drunk. Aramis would call it tipsy if Athos got tipsy. They sat around for a while talking about the events of the day, the Queen’s gift to Aramis, and the fact that Aramis seemed to be besotted with the Queen. It was a fact Aramis completely denied of course and Porthos laughed.

           “You were giving her the look?”

           “What look? I have lots of looks.”

           “I believe to look Porthos means is your come here and join me in bed look. I’m surprised she held out honestly. I can never refuse it.”

           “I only give it to you when you are drunk and lose you inhibitions. How else would I convince you to join Porthos and I?” Athos laughed at that.

           “And do you plan on using it on d’Artagnan? Or have you already? Is that what you wanted to tell me?” Athos took a sip from his cup and put it aside seeing the serious looks on his friends’ faces.

           “D’Artagnan is special…”

           “I can’t deny that. The boy has learned everything we taught him and keeps coming back for more. Most recruit run from me.” Athos tried to lighten the mood slightly. Porthos sighed.

           “’Mis you know how he is. You should just come out and say it because he’s as dense as a wall.”

           Aramis took a big drink of his wine and opened his mouth. Knocking on Athos’ door stopped him from saying whatever it was he was about to say. Porthos got up to answer it and Constance practically fell through the door.

           “D’Artagnan’s at my house right now. I don’t think he’s got long.” The three men grabbed their things and left in a rush following Constance. Athos wondered what Porthos and Aramis were going to tell him briefly but decided it could wait until after the mission was completed. When they entered Constance’s house d’Artagnan was waiting for Aramis pulled him into a hug Porthos following with another one seconds after she had been let go. Athos watched wondering if his initial assumption of them sleeping together had been correct. He hadn’t joined Porthos and Aramis in bed since d’Artagnan had joined them. In all honestly he had been distracted by the long eyelashes and lithe figure of their newest member to join them and had spent many night with his own hand thinking about d’Artagnan. Maybe he would join them in bed again soon.

           “Vadim plans to murder the Queen and King. Some fantasy of a peasant rebellion.”

           “Have you seen the gunpowder? Any weapons?” Athos pulled himself away from his musings focusing on his job.

           “What about his men?” Aramis was concerned that she was sharing a room with lots of men and would be discovered.

           “In hiding.” Aramis relaxed when she said that knowing her secret was safe for the moment.

           “When’s this plan supposed to take place?” Athos was annoyed that he had been interrupted. Porthos shot him a look.

           “Vadim’s careful. He doesn’t say much.”

           “Does he trust you?” Porthos was concerned for her wellbeing as well but he knew she couldn’t be pulled out at this point. Vadim would just go to ground and try again some other time.

           “As much as he trusts anyone. Felix doesn’t but I can handle him. Vadim once said that the secret to a good trick was to make people look the wrong way.” They continued to talk about the plan but d’Artagnan could feel Aramis and Porthos’ eyes on her. When she suggested that she go back Aramis looked like he had been sucking lemons. Constance entered carrying food and hugged her friend.

           “They told me about the duel, your imprisonment, that it was all faked.”

           “Rather well you have to admit.” Constance reached out and slapped Aramis for the second time that day. Porthos laughed and she spun around glaring at him. The message was clear in her look. They were in charge of keep d’Artagnan safe while she was on duty yet they had agreed to this harebrained scheme. Porthos held up a hand in a calming gesture.

           “What for this time?”

           “Letting me think the worst.” Turning to d’Artagnan she glared. “First I thought you were a condemned man, then a fugitive, then this. How many ways can a man think of to get himself killed?” She walked out of the room as Aramis poured d’Artagnan a cup of wine. Athos moved to stand in front of her.

           “It’s too dangerous.” Aramis’ head snapped around at Athos’ statement. He thought perhaps without Athos’ support d’Artagnan would back out. Instead she stepped forward and told him she could do it. He handed Porthos a glass of wine and they both downed it quickly. Athos’ clasped d’Artagnan’s shoulder and she headed out the door. On her way out she gave them the name of Vadim’s mistress.

           Constance showed her to the door and they started talking about lodgers. Apparently it hadn’t been the first time one had been thrown in jail. D’Artagnan assured her that she would be coming back for her room as Constance’s husband entered the yard. Constance got between him and d’Artagnan and d’Artagnan placed a hand on her lower back prepared to shove her out of the way if necessary. He started a fuss and the musketeers came out they dealt with it and d’Artagnan went on her way.

           She was spotted by the guards in the night market and they gave chase. It wasn’t until they had her cornered that she got worried. The woman from her first night in Paris appeared and she knifed one guard before shooting the second. She stopped to talk calling herself d’Artagnan’s guardian angel until she heard Athos, Aramis, and Porthos coming their way. She fled and the musketeers arrived Athos looked at the men at her feet and sent her on her way. Porthos was assigned to follow her. Despite the fact that she could take care of herself she felt better having the big musketeers watching her back.

 

* * *

 

 

           She arrived back at the hideout and got the expected tongue lashing from Vadim. She now had to run her visits with Constance through him. D’Artagnan agreed. She doubted she would need that way of communicating with Athos again considering Porthos hanging around somewhere nearby unseen.

           Athos and Aramis stopped by the mistress’ house and gathered the information that Vadim had worked at the palace. When then went to the palace they discovered that he had been a good worker but had vanished the moment he has stolen a diamond pendent. Treville and Athos reported what they knew to the Cardinal and figured out when the most likely time for Vadim to strike would be. Going to the King and Queen did nothing. The royals had decided that using body doubles would not work and insisted on going to Easter Mass.

           Vadim had gone over the plan with d’Artagnan. She had been surprised when he handed her the map but she had tucked it into her top and at the next possible moment she had gone out for some air. Passing Porthos she dropped the map. He bent to pick it up and left. She spent some more time outside before heading back inside with the wine Vadim had requested. The celebration was in full swing Vadim pulled his gun. Declaring that they had a traitor in their midst and pointed his gun at d’Artagnan. When she knelt she was struck in the head by the butt of a pistol and her world turned to black.

           Porthos and Aramis lead the raiding party of musketeers. When they entered the room was empty. Athos knelt down and found the blood on the floor. Aramis and Porthos were instantly worried about their friend. Treville held the map.

           “Our job now is to protect the King. When that’s done we can worry about d’Artagnan.” He turned leaving. Athos stood staring at the floor for a few mins then left as well, Aramis and Porthos following. All of the missed the trapdoor in the floor opening up and Felix appearing before he dropped back into the tunnel. He patted Vadim on the shoulder and the group went off through the tunnels dragging d’Artagnan.

 

* * *

 

 

           The musketeers watched the crowd as the King and Queen exited Notre Dame. They were not happy with this plan but it was all they had considering their failed raid the night before. Nothing was out of the ordinary in the crowd until suddenly a man lit a fuse.

           “Death to tyrants.” The musketeers sprung into action. Aramis shoot one of the men who had run into the road. Porthos fought the crowd and took his dagger throwing it. It hit another one of the men. All around them shots were fired as the musketeers and the red guards fired on the attackers. The musketeers surrounding the King and Queen rushed them towards the carriage. The King managed to make it but one of the bombs was thrown towards the Queen. Her guards backed her up and Aramis threw himself on the bomb in an attempt to save the Queen. He could hear Porthos shouting in the background but ignored his lover. When the bomb didn’t go off they rushed the Queen around him. As she looked back he kissed the cross she had given him. The guards rushed Their Majesties off.

           “It’s a dud.” Aramis handed it to Athos.

           “They were never meant to go off. They’re all duds. He’s made us look in the wrong direction.” The distant sound of bombs going off focused their attention. Athos threw his hands up. “The Palace. He doesn’t want to kill the King and Queen he wants to rob them. It’s a distraction. He’s at the Palace.” The musketeers took off running.

           At the palace Vadim was throwing bombs to create distractions and kill the guards. He made his way down to the vault and used a bomb to kill the guards there and break into the room. Entering it he started to scoop the jewels into his bag.

           Athos, Porthos, and Aramis arrived at the Palace. Everyone got out of their way as they ran down the hallway. Spotting Vadim they took off after him. They followed him into the tunnels below the Palace until they hit a dead end.

           “There’s nowhere to run”

           “Surrender or die it’s up to you.”

           “It’s over Vadim.”

           “Not quite.”

           “Where’s d’Artagnan?” Porthos was mad but his voice was as completely unfazed.

           “Is he dead?” Athos didn’t let his gun waver.

           “He? You didn’t know? It appears your companions do. I admit I was surprised when I found out. I mean a girl among the musketeers is unheard of a surely illegal. Or maybe you did know and that’s why you sent her.” Aramis growled at Vadim’s words and Athos’ eyes went wide at the revelation. Vadim plugged his ears. “Bang.” Athos realized what was about to happen and dragged Porthos against the wall.

           “Get down.” The wall exploded towards them knocking them all down.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan awoke tied to barrels of gun powder. Vadim knelt next to a barrel with a candle and a fuse.

           “I was hoping you’d wake. Imagine my surprise when I searched you for weapons and discovered your secret. Are those musketeers so oblivious that they didn’t notice a girl in their midst or are you paying them off with sexual favors to look the other way. Either was I was hoping you wouldn’t miss the high point in our acquaintance.”

           “Where are we?”

           “In the tunnels under the Louve. They run from the palace to the city wall, built by one of our King’s forbearers as an escape route, bricked up in the time of Henry IV.” He began to lay the fuse and continued talking. “I discovered them while working in the palace kitchens. You see d’Artagnan, servants are like rats. They’ll find all manner of secret exits and entrances.” He pushed the end of the fuse into one of the barrels of gunpowder. “In exactly fifteen minutes that candle will burn down and light the fuse to explode the powder stored in those barrels.”

           “Blowing me to pieces.”

           “Well certainly but that’s not the main purpose of the exercise.”

           “You know it doesn’t matter what you do to me Vadim. You failed. I told the musketeers everything.” Vadim moved into her face.

           “You told them exactly what I wanted you to tell them. I explained the trick to you d’Artagnan. You should have paid more attention.” Vadim pulled away and filled a bag with bombs. “It’s a pity such a pretty girl like you has to die. Fourteen minutes. Tick tock tick tock.” Vadim left and closed the door. D’Artagnan began to struggle with her bonds. She managed to get one hand free just as the candle hit the fuse. To her surprise the candle went out and didn’t appear to light the fuse.  She relaxed just as the fuse lit. She frantically scrabbled at her other hand and managed to get it free. Rolling she yanked the fuse out of the barrel just before it lit it and tossed it away.

           Grabbing her sword she headed for the door. Finding it unlocked she opened it only to have what looked like ten more fuses light. She quickly tried to put them out but it appeared that the more she tried to put out the more were lit. Finally, as the fuses got to close to the barrels she ran into the tunnel hoping to get away before everything blew up. She was thrown into the air by the explosion.

 

* * *

 

 

           When Athos managed to pick himself up he coughed. Vadim was nowhere in sight but where there had been a wall before there was a tunnel. Aramis crouched over Porthos gently shaking him until he started to cough. Aramis helped him to his feet. They turned to find Athos glaring at them.

           “Did either of you think to inform me that d’Artagnan was actually a female at any point before we let him do this?”

           “It was her request that she tell you herself. We honored it. I would like to point out that I objected strongly to this from the start.”

           “We can talk about this later. Let’s find Vadim.” Porthos took off down the new tunnel his sword out. Athos followed him giving Aramis another glare. Aramis took up the rear. They found Felix dead and his men wondering around looking for Vadim. Apparently he had killed Felix and taken off down the tunnel. When the men saw the three musketeers that ran towards them shouting. The fight was relatively easy and the three took off after Vadim.

 

* * *

 

 

           Vadim ran into d’Artagnan at a crossroads in the tunnels. He could hear the fighting up the tunnel and reached down to grab a burning bit of wood to light his way.

           “Vadim.” Came the hissed whisper. He spun around. “Behind you.” The light lit d’Artagnan for a moment before she disappeared.

           “You’ve full of surprises.”

           “I had a good teacher.” Vadim spun around again trying to find d’Artagnan in the smoke and darkness of the tunnel. Locating her he swung his sword only to have her vanish. “This way.” He kept spinning in circles until suddenly he found her. She swung at him and he parried. They went through a quick fight that ended with d’Artagnan stabbing him. Vadim dropped his torch and vanished into the darkness. She heard footsteps behind her and spun raising her sword. Athos, Aramis, and Porthos ran up to her.

           “So you are alive.” Athos sounded relieved but also annoyed.

           “I think so.”

           “We need to have a talk.” Aramis stepped in resting a hand on Athos’ shoulder.

           “He knows. Vadim told him. Where is he?”

           “Wounded. Badly.” D’Artagnan raised her sword showing the blood at the tip. “He can’t have gone far.” The started off down the tunnel Vadim had vanished. Athos took the front refusing to look at her. Aramis clapped her shoulder and Porthos wrapped an arm around her briefly. They took off after Athos and d’Artagnan followed them. They found Vadim on the river banks on his knees. As he died he looked at d’Artagnan.

           “It was a good trick. It should have worked.” He fell and died. His hand opened in death and a gold coin fell out. Athos gathered up the jewelry and glared at all three of them.

           “I am taking this back to the palace. Then we are going to Monsieur Bonacieux’s and getting her set up back in respectable lodgings and then we are going back to my place and I will have an explanation. You three will go to the garrison and wait for me there.” Athos turned and stomped off.

           “He isn’t taking this well is he?”

 

* * *

 

 

           “My apologies for the deception Monsieur. I had no choice.”

           “D’Artagnan was doing his duty at great personal risk. He deserves praise. Not blame.” D’Artagnan tried not to flinch at Athos’ words. He could hear, despite Athos hiding it well, that he was still mad.

           “Well he is very brave I am sure.” Monsieur Bonacieux sounded completely different than he had sounded the other night. D’Artagnan made a mental note that he was a flake.

           “Please except our profound apologies for any misunderstandings.” “Aramis bowed slightly.

           “No hard feelings?” Porthos was always direct and to the point.

           “Of course not. I always knew there would be a good explanation.”

           “I beg Madame Bonacieux’s forgiveness.”

           “I trust nothing of the kind will ever happen again. She looked straight at Aramis and Porthos who nodded slightly.

           “I’ll see you to the door.” The four of them followed him. D’Artagnan shot a pleading glance at Constance and point to Athos mouthing to her that he knew. Constance winced.

           The walk back to Athos’ lodgings was silent. Aramis and Porthos walked on either side of d’Artagnan like a guard. When they reached his lodgings they went upstairs. Athos stood in the door holding it open. He slammed it shut and turned to glare at them.

           “I want an explanation now.”

           “They didn’t know until it was too late.”

           “D’Artagnan as much as we appreciate your efforts to not get us in trouble Athos is a human lie detector. He knows we knew from the beginning.” Aramis rested a hand on her shoulder.

           “We walked in on her changing when we went to get her to save you. Aramis thought it would be a fine idea to bring her along and it just kind of stuck.”

           “And none of you thought to tell me our new companion was female?”

           “What’s wrong with being female?” d’Artagnan yanked away from Aramis and moved towards Athos. Porthos grabbed her around her waist and wrapped his other arm around her arms to keep her from hitting him. He yanked her against his chest and held her there.

           “This is why we didn’t tell you. Because she’s a fighter and deserves a chance to do what she’s good at. You can’t deny she’s good. She can hold her own against you.” Porthos was struggling to hold d’Artagnan against him as she kicked him with her feet. “Now will you apologize about your attitude about females and fighting? She’s actually hurting me.” Athos moved in front of her but stayed out of reach of her feet.

           “I apologize if I seemed like I didn’t want woman fighting alongside men. I have just never encountered one who wanted to.” When Porthos let her go she lunged at Athos and slapped him. He didn’t even flinch. “I admit I deserved that one.” He sighed and reached for the bottle on his table. “Listen d’Artagnan. If no one finds out besides those who already know, and I mean no one, you can stay. If the Cardinal finds out we’re all dead. Now get out all of you. Aramis, Porthos make sure she’s fed and gets home please.” He slid some coins across the table. “I’ll help with her upkeep. If Treville knows he’ll help to but he’ll have to be a bit more discrete about it.” He opened the door and escorted them out. When the door closed and they were far enough away that they wouldn’t the crash he threw the bottle at wall. Bracing himself against the door he shoved all his feelings for d’Artagnan into the same place that held his feelings for Anne and metaphorically slammed the door. He had sworn after the last debacle he would never have feelings for another woman to prevent himself from getting hurt again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16 pages on word and double the words of Chapter 1. This was a long one to write and I get the feeling that it will get even longer from here on out. That being so I will update as quickly as I can with classes, exams, projects, and the end of term coming out. I'm hoping to be all the way through the events of season 2 by the time season 3 starts sometime next year. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story.


	3. Chapter 3

           D’Artagnan nodded at the man as he walked by her. Somehow she had let Aramis and Porthos convince her that she should put on a skirt and a wig and watch the docks for their target. There were enough girls wondering around that she wasn’t out of place. Once she had spotted him she lifted her skirts and ran back to the warehouse they had found to hide out in. Athos had been watching her as she was out by the docks so Porthos and Aramis were the only ones waiting for her. When she burst in, they half drew their swords only to relax when they say who it was. D’Artagnan handed Aramis a knife and he slashed the laces holding her corset on. Quickly she ditched the corset and her skirt revealing her normal pants and shirt beneath it. Glancing at the half corset Aramis held out to her she shook her head.

           “There’s no time. I wasn’t the only one interested in him. As long as I stay in the shadows I’ll be fine.” She shrugged on the leather doublet and laced it quickly. Throwing on her hat and gloves she followed the other two out. Aramis grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the way of a cart and the three of them hurried to the bar their target frequented the most while he was in town. Glancing down when they entered she was glad to see that the shadows and leather of her doublet hide her chest well enough. Their target came through the door a minute after them and they ignored him.

           “Drinks for the whole house.” The rousing cheer went up as the men went to a table by the fireplace and sat down. Porthos pulled away and joined Athos in his corner while Aramis and d’Artagnan sat at a table near the man.

           “A man who likes to draw attention to himself.” Athos muttered quietly to Porthos.

           “Do you think he knows he’s being watched?”

           “But not just by us.” The man started flirting with the maid who brought him his drink. D’Artagnan tried not to laugh at the lines he was using to woe the woman. Aramis glanced at him.

           “Seduced by a feather? Really?”

           “Any man can tell a woman she’s beautiful. Making her believe it is where the genius lies.” Aramis smiled slightly. In Athos corner he noticed the nods shared between two men.

           “One at the door one at the table.”

           “One behind us.” Porthos gestured slightly in the direction of the chain noises he was hearing.

           “And who’s this?” Athos was watching the two men who had entered. They wore all black and stuck out like sore thumbs.

           “Our man is certainly popular.” The three men they had pointed out before began to move. Suddenly a woman opened the door and shouted.

           “Émile!” The woman stalked towards him.

           “Dear God.” There was a shing of a drawn dagger and d’Artagnan started up. Aramis pressed her down gently shaking his head slightly.

           “I want to see how this plays out.” The woman cut the feather and started attacking the other woman. She yanked off her sleeve as the maid grabbed a tankard and used it to fight back. She dodged the knife until the woman threw her onto the table in front of Émile and climbed on top of her before looking up.

           “I’ll kill you.”

           “Darling calm yourself. I beg you it’s far too early in the morning.” The three men moved in to attack the man at the table. He shot one of them under the table. The woman dropped off the table spinning to meet the shot attacker.

           “Touch him and you die.” The second man charged and d’Artagnan’s foot shot out tripping him. She and Aramis were up, Aramis’ gun out, before the man could get up. The third man made the mistake of passing by Porthos who shoved him into a wall. D’Artagnan gestured at the man she had knocked down and he ran. Aramis approached the woman.

           “You can stay away too.” She gestured at him with her knife.

           “A moment ago you wanted to kill him.”

           “I have the right. You don’t.” She pulled her arm back ready to stab him. Aramis grabbed her wrist, disarmed her, and spun her as if dancing. He pushed her back into d’Artagnan’s hold. Aramis shook the knife at her as she yelled and struggled. Getting her mouth to one of d’Artagnan’s arms she bit down hard. D’Artagnan yelped and released her grip as Porthos laughed.

           “She just bit me.” The man hopped over the table and dropped in front of Aramis.

           “Gentleman. Thank you.” The four of them surrounded Émile. “Thank you. It was lucky for me that you were here.”

           “Not entirely.” Athos put away his pistol. Porthos stepped forward and started disarming him. “Émile Bonnaire I am Athos of the King’s Musketeers. You are under arrest. We’re taking you to Paris to appear before the King.” Émile glanced back towards the woman.

           “No. No I’m afraid I can’t... um… can’t travel today because I’ve got important business…” Athos interrupted him.

           “Your business will have to wait.” D’Artagnan nodded towards the woman.

           “What about her?”

           “I have a name. It is Maria Bonnaire.”

           “Gentleman, my wife.”

           “That explains a lot.” Aramis grinned. Porthos chuckled before grabbing him.

           “Any hidden weapons we should know about?” He did a more in-depth search.

           “Uh no… no I never carry any concealed weapons.” Porthos pulled a gun out of his boot. “I completely forgot about that one. The two men in black handed over the document carrier that he had been carrying. “Well gentleman, Paris it is.” He walked forward. Aramis handed Maria back the dagger she had been using to fight. She yanked it out of his grasp. Émile turned around.

           “Oh um grant me one last favor before we go. A few moments alone with my wife.” D’Artagnan chuckled.

           “You must think we’re stupid.” At the grunts and shrugs from her companions she sighed. “Terribly sorry apparently we are.” The followed the two upstairs. Aramis pulled her into an empty room and d’Artagnan slipped out of her doublet. Turning so her back was away from him she slipped out of her shirt and took the half corset. Positioning it properly she nodded. Aramis quickly laced it up and d’Artagnan slipped her shirt and doublet back on. They went out into the hall and joined Athos. Athos glanced at them.

           “All situated?”

           “Next time you’re wearing the skirt. I had maybe thirty seconds to change. I didn’t have time to bind down.” D’Artagnan reply was hissed so that no one else could hear. “It takes at least two minutes to put on and I need a second person to lace it up. So excuse me for not taking the time to seem appropriately male. I doubt anyone but the wife noticed.” Porthos came back up and told them that all of their fellow watchers had left then went downstairs to get the rest of the plan ready. Aramis rolled his eyes at the noises coming out of the room.

           “Like we haven’t been with enough women of the night to know what faked sex sounds like.” D’Artagnan blushed and Aramis noticed. “What? Has our little Gascon never taken a lover?”

           “Shut it Aramis. I was considered weird back at home remember. And it’s not like I’ve had free time since coming to Paris.” At Athos’ look she scowled. “Did you believe that because I choose to wear pants that I was loose Athos?” She stomped off and Athos rubbed his eyes.

           “Why must she always assume the worst?”

           “Well considering how you reacted when you found out that she was female I’m not surprised. She’ll come around eventually.”

 

* * *

 

 

           They had hijacked Émile’s escape route easily enough and were still with him when the attackers hit. They had stopped briefly at a rundown old way house when someone Émile had slighted in business decided to take his revenge. Porthos had been protecting Émile when they had stuck. He had fought until he took an axe to the shoulder. Aramis had instantly run over and killed the man who had hit him before removing his belt and using it as a tourniquet. Something weird had come over Athos while he had talked to the business partner. He had acted like he expected to be obeyed, not solely because he was a musketeer. In d’Artagnan’s mind he sounded like one of the nobles who frequently rode through Gascony. He continued acting like it whole Aramis berated him about Porthos. It was only when they rode up to the great house after riding through the village that d’Artagnan understood. Athos wasn’t just acting like he was a noble because he had spent time around the Royal Court and knew how nobles acted. He was a noble.

           “So how did you know about this place?” D’Artagnan knew she just wanted to hear him say it.

           “I own it.” He walked off. They got Porthos situated on a table before Aramis spoke.

           “You were the Comte de la Fere? A son of the nobility?” At Athos’ nod Aramis smiled. “How many servants did it take to run this place?”

           “No more than twenty including my valet and housekeeper.”

           “Quite modest then?”

           “Servants make me uncomfortable.” Émile stood in up from his chair.

           “Look if you don’t mind I’ll just go wait outside. The sight of blood makes me feel a bit faint.” D’Artagnan stood braced against the doorframe and didn’t budge blocking the path out. “Or I could stay here.”

           “You must be skilled at this yourself.”

           “Better with sail than skin.”

           “Fine needlework Aramis does.” Porthos was panting in pain but he could still talk. “Should have been a seamstress.”

           “Two inches deep that blade went.” He pointed to one of Porthos’ scars. “You wouldn’t know would you? This one I trussed up during a skirmish we had. Stitching that’s fine enough for the Queen’s chemise.”

           “I agree.” D’Artagnan wondered over her eyes alight at the torture they would putting Émile through. “But perhaps you should save this talk for another time.” Aramis leaned back.

           “If you could prepare the patient.” Athos walked over to Porthos’ head.

           “Porthos.” Porthos looked at Athos and the man punched him hard in the head. Porthos’ head hit the table unconscious and Émile jumped. Aramis pried up one eyelid and nodded.

           “Dear God. What kind of brutes are you?”

           “It’s the best way with Porthos. We’ve learned from experience.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos watch Porthos lie on the futon snoring before he turned away. He walked through the house opening door after door and reliving the memories that the house brought back. One particular memory came back to him as he entered the last room.

_“It is the perfect room.” The woman in the chair was relaxed and happy. “And look. They’re like a carpet on the grass outside.” She held out some forget-me-nots. “Forget-me-nots. I’ll press some for you. As a memento of a perfect day.” The woman walked over to him. “Athos. Swear that nothing will ever come between us.”_

_“I swear.” He kissed her hard and they moved back until they were against the table. The vase fell off and crashed to the floor._

           Athos looked around the dust covered room. There were cloths on the furniture to keep the dust off. This room had been his wife, Anne’s. He turned around and walked out slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

           Porthos was listening to Émile’s plans for retirement in the land he had discovered and drinking to numb the pain in his shoulder. D’Artagnan had her feet up on a stool and was sitting comfortably guarding Émile. Aramis was watching Porthos to make sure the man didn’t hurt himself more. Émile tried to tempt them to joining him in the colonies with riches and pretty woman Porthos was the only one who looked even tempted in his alcohol induced stupor. When Athos walked in and told them of his plan to ride out the next day Aramis sighed and told Athos that Porthos could ride if he must. The plan was to leave in the morning.

           That night Athos kept exploring the house while the rest of them slept. Visiting the room he and Anne had shared as their bed chamber another memory hit him.

_Anne was in a white nightdress. He himself was shirtless. They were both covered by the gold colored coverlet. Athos lent over and they kissed languidly his hand gently stroking right below her breast._

           The memory faded as he left the room.

           The morning found Porthos struggling to get into his armor while the rest of them looked on amused. Porthos glanced at d’Artagnan.

           “Did someone punch me?” He rubbed his jaw.

           “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll go fetch some water.” D’Artagnan walked away before Porthos could realize she hadn’t met his eyes. D’Artagnan found Athos on her way to fetch water and approached him slowly. The portrait he had been staring at hand been slashed by a knife. Athos turned to face and walked towards her. Taking the chance D’Artagnan took his arm.

           “Hey what happened here?” She gestured at the ruined portrait.

           “Vandals I suppose.” She could hear the lie in Athos’ voice but didn’t push instead she turned to one of the other portraits.

           “And this? Who’s this?”

           “Thomas. My younger brother. Everyone’s favorite.”

           “What happened to him?” D’Artagnan turned to face Athos again.

           “He’s dead.” Athos turned and walked to the window staring at the tree.

           “I’m sorry.”

           The memory overtook Athos.

_The priest kissed his cross. Anne was dressed all in white in a dress that bared her neck and shoulders to prevent the noose from catching. In her hands she held forget-me-nots. The blacksmith was there to do the hanging._

           Athos pulled himself from the memory and walked off. It was a mistake coming here but he had no other options if he wanted to save Porthos.

 

* * *

 

 

           Back in the room they had slept in Porthos watched Émile. “What are you doing?”

           “Just planning my next trip. I’m making sure the load is equally distributed.”

           “I uh wouldn’t mind taking a look. I like teaching myself new things.”

           “Ah. So you’re an autodidact.” At Porthos’ blank look Émile continued. “It means self-taught man. Like myself actually.” Porthos smiled slightly and moved slowly towards the table. Émile rolled up his documents and put them in the tube buckling the top on. “Another time perhaps. Forgive me my eyes are tired now. I’m just such a martyr to detail.” Aramis’ voice rang out.

           “D’Artagnan.” Porthos shuffled towards the window. A lone figure was riding up the road to the house. Through the spy glass the identity of the rider was revealed. It was Maria, draped over her horse like she had been injured. D’Artagnan raised her gun. At Aramis look she shrugged.

           “I’ve still got the scar from our last encounter.” When she pulled up Émile ran out.

           “I was attacked. On the road. Two men dressed all in black.”

           “Let me help you down.” She pulled out a gun.

           “Patronize me one more time and you’ll lose your head.” D’Artagnan raised her hands slowly. “Drop your weapon.” D’Artagnan did as she was told hearing Émile laughing behind her.

           “Why you fooled even me my darling.” Aramis and Porthos dropped their weapons as well. Maria pushed d’Artagnan towards her companions. “Now gentleman as fascinating as this episode has been,” he pulled himself up behind his wife, “now I must dash.” The two took off. The three of them ran to ready their horses.

           “You’re not ready for this yet.”

           “Try to stop me.”

           “Don’t make us knock you out again.” Athos came running around the corner. Porthos glared at d’Artagnan.

           “I knew I’d been punched.” D’Artagnan held up her hands.

           “It wasn’t me. Blame Athos. I don’t have the strength to knock you out.”

           “Go inside Porthos.” Athos grabbed the horse Porthos was getting ready. “You’re no use in this condition.” The three of the road out after Émile. On the road they heard a shot. Turning the bend they saw Maria on the ground and Émile racing off. The men in black saw them and jumped on their horses riding off.

           “Allow me.” D’Artagnan rode after Émile. Aramis dodged the shot that the man took at him and jumped off his horse.

           “Stop or I’ll shoot.” Aramis took aim and shot. The musket ball hit precisely where he wanted it too and the man keeled over. After checking Maria he went to check on the man he had shot. The man spoke in Spanish but didn’t tell him who had given him his orders.

           “Why would Spain send agents after Bonnaire?” Athos was kneeling next to him.

           D’Artagnan was riding hard after Émile. She knew that soon the man’s horse would tire and stop dead entirely so she didn’t bother to ride as hard after him. Sure enough she found him in a meadow kicking his horse in an attempt to make it move.

           “Classic mistake. A horse can gallop two miles at most. If you’d have kept her at a nice, even canter you might have escaped.”

           “Yes I suppose if I was a farm boy I’d know that sort of thing.” D’Artagnan nodded then pulled her gun.

           “Get down. You can walk back. Give that horse a rest.” The man complied.

 

* * *

 

 

           When they returned to the house Porthos was looking at the papers Émile had hid from him. Seeing the man he pushed himself up onto his feet.

           “You lying, filthy swine.” The punch came from his good side and Émile was thrown onto the table. He continued hitting him until d'Artagnan and Athos pulled him off. D’Artagnan got in his face knowing Porthos wouldn’t hurt her.

           “What are you doing?” He wasn’t subdued until the stiches in his shoulder ripped out. Aramis winced.

           “There goes my needlework.”

           “Porthos enough. What’s going on?”

           “That’s what his cargo is. Men. Women. Children. It’s a slave ship.” Aramis took the papers and looked them over then looked at Porthos with understanding. Athos and d’Artagnan let him go.

           “The drawings make it look far worse than it really is.”

           “Look at this one.” Porthos pushed aside d’Artagnan gently taking another one of the papers. “People packed on the deck like fish at the market. I envied him. Boasting about his plans to farm tobacco. Boasted that labor is cheap out there. It isn’t cheap labor is it Bonnaire? Its stolen labor. Stolen lives.”

           “This is business. Strictly business.”

           “The business of misery and suffering.” D’Artagnan took a hold of Porthos again to keep him from lunging at Émile.

           “It’s our duty to protect him.” Athos had also taken a grip on Porthos. Porthos yanked away from the two of them.

           “And turn a blind eye to his crimes?”

           “Slavery is cruel and disgusting but it’s not a crime.”

           “You’ll get your justice Porthos.” Aramis placed a calming hand on his lover’s shoulder and Porthos relaxed. “The king will see to that.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos was drinking while staring at the paintings. He eventually moved to the bedroom trying to drown the ghosts he was seeing around the house. He lay his head on the bed the wine spilling out of the bottle looking like blood. After a bit he got up and walked to the tree. Staring at the ground he spotted a button that had fallen off Anne’s dress on the day. The memory overtook him suddenly.

_He was on his horse watching as the priest gave Anne her last rites. The blacksmith approached carrying the rope and tossed it over the tree. His vision focused on the forget-me-nots in her hand. While she was dressed like this with flowers in her hands he could pretend that she was getting married. She passed the flowers of to the priest and let her hands be tied behind her back. She resolutely made eye contact with him where he sat. When the blacksmith looked at him he nodded. The cart was pulled out from underneath her and she fell the noose around her neck. He turned the horse and left unable to watch her die._

           D’Artagnan found him there under the tree. She had gone looking for him when she hadn’t seen him since the escape attempt.

           “What are you doing?”

           “There’s someone I need to see in the village.”

           “Let me come with you. You haven’t been yourself since you got to this place.”

           “Keep an eye on Porthos. Don’t leave him alone with Bonnaire. Between you and Aramis he should be fine but I don’t trust Aramis to turn his back while Porthos slits his throat.”

           “At least tell me where you’re going.”

           “Just get back on the road as soon as you can. Get Bonnaire to Paris.

           They headed back to Paris after they had buried Maria. Porthos was silent the entire trip back. Athos had told them to go on ahead. They had all assumed that he had something to do regarding the affairs of his lands and left.

           A while down the road d’Artagnan stopped his horse. It was almost dark.

           “This isn’t right. I’m going back for Athos.” Without waiting for Aramis’ approval she turned her horse and cantered away.

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos approached the blacksmith’s forge and entered. He had avoided this place entirely because of the memories but he had to know.

           “Remy was it quick? Did she suffer much?” When the man didn’t answer Athos glanced at him. His throat had been cut in an apparent suicide. “I never should have involved you in this.” He walked out of the forge and rode back to his house. It was empty without the others but he had his wine. He started drinking from a glass but moved to drinking straight from the bottle. He wondered over to the portraits and stared at the before throwing the bottle he held at his own.

           He kept drinking deep into the night. There were bottle all around and shattered glasses where he had thrown them. He was curled up against a chest of drawers when something made him wake up and look around. There was fire in Anne’s room and he entered. The figure that was carrying the torch glanced at him and her eyes widened in recognition.

           “You’re dead.” Athos stared at the ghost of his wife. “I watched you hang.”

           “You didn’t watch did you?” Milady de winters, the Cardinal’s right hand woman, and the woman who kept returning to d’Artagnan approached him. Once she had loved this man and carried the name Anne. Now she was a spy and assassin. “You couldn’t stay to see your beloved wife choking on the end of a rope.”

           “Remy.”

           “I seduced him. As soon as you fled he cut me down and revived me. But look.” She pulled down her choker revealing the marks left by the rope, “I still carry the token of your love.”

           “You killed Remy.”

           “Put him out of his misery. He spent the last five years waiting for you to show up and discover his crime. He was half dead already.” Athos lunged at her and she stepped aside.

           “I’m dreaming.”

           “Drunk perhaps. But not dreaming.” She hit him with the torch and he collapsed.

           “Why are you here?”

           “To erase the past. To destroy it completely.” She smirked. “I’m glad you came back. It’s right you should die with this house.”

           “The house. Why did you murder my brother?” She dragged him up by his collar and pressed a knife to his throat the torch forgotten on the floor.

           “I killed Thomas to save our love.”

           “You killed him because he discovered the truth. That you were a criminal. Who lied and tricked you way into my life.”

           “He was a fool and a hypocrite. He deserved to die. I thought you would understand that.” She looked up and noticed the fire was licking up the walls. Athos collapsed into her lap and she ran her fingers through his hair gently. “It’s best it ends like this.” She pressed the knife to his throat again fingering the locket.

           “Do it.” She opened the locket to find the pressed and preserved forget-me-not she had given him.

           “Athos.” Athos could hear d’Artagnan shouting. Milady looked up and pulled away. “Athos can you hear me?”

           “D’Artagnan?” D’Artagnan was outside the house looking at the fire. He saw the cloaked figure of the woman ride off into the night. Making up her mind she ran into the house. Searching through the rooms she found Athos on the floor coughing from the smoke. She dragged him up and half carried him outside into the clear air. The house was well and truly on fire now and there was no saving it. As Milady rode off she took one last look at the house only to see d’Artagnan pulling Athos out the doors.

           Athos was still kneeling where d’Artagnan had left him staring in shock at the house. D’Artagnan gently dumped water on his face to clean the smoke and soot from his eyes. Athos just continued to stare at the house.

           “What happened? Who was that woman?”

           “Since we arrived I felt her presence everywhere. I thought I was imagining it.”

           “Who?” D’Artagnan grabbed the front of his doublet shaking him slightly. “Who Athos?”

           “My wife. She died five years ago now. By my orders. She was a cold blooded murderer so I had her taken from the house and hung from the branch of a tree.” Athos was speaking from deep within shock. D’Artagnan took his chin and forced him to look at her, half to access his condition half to try to snap him out of it.

           “Look at me. LOOK AT ME! Are you saying the ghost of your dead wife tried to kill you?”

           “She’s not dead d’Artagnan. She survived.”

           “This was her revenge?”

           “It was my duty. It was my duty to uphold the law.” In his shock Athos felt it necessary to convince this young woman who he held feelings for that it hadn’t been his choice. It was what was necessary. Her face was inches away from his and he tried not to lean in and kiss her. “My duty to condemn the woman I loved to death. I’ve clung to the belief that I had no choice.” D’Artagnan started to undo her cloak. “Five years living to learn in a world without her. And then you came along and I was in the exact same situation again.” He leaned in and kissed her slightly. D’Artagnan didn’t fight him and kissed back gently.  He pulled away and yanked his arm from her grasp.

           “What do I do now?” Athos toppled over and d’Artagnan wrapped her cloak around him.

 

* * *

 

 

           They arrived in Paris a few days after Aramis and Porthos.

           “Our Spanish friend.”

           “Leave him to me.” Athos took off after the man while d’Artagnan went home. Constance smiled at her.

           “There’s a bath upstairs in your rooms. I thought you would like it.”

           “Constance you are a God send. I’m covered in mud and soot because Athos has a death wish and decided he didn’t want to exit a burning building and I had to go in and get him.” She didn’t mention how Athos had kissed her.

           Once she was done with her bath Constance came up and helped her lace the half corset. She left her alone to get dressed the rest of the way. D’Artagnan noticed the forget-me-nots on her pillow and knew that her guardian angel, as the woman had put it, had visited. She smiled as she finished getting dressed and headed for the garrison. Aramis and Porthos joined her at the table.

           Aramis told them the story about how Émile had been a royal pain asking for a horse and demanding a fresh set of clothes as was within his rights.

           “The best part was that Porthos just kind of looked a like he was an idiot and goes ‘What rights?’ Bonnaire just spluttered at the implication that we would deny him the rights of every man. Honestly we did. Considering the business he’s in we decided that he should be treated like the people he takes. He promised that he was out of the slavery business and then when he exited the King’s chambers he said he had changed his mind.”

           “Bonnaire has more lives than a cat.”

           “If only those Spanish spies had taken his last one.”

           “What did they want with him anyway?” Aramis raised his voice so that Athos could hear. Athos walked over to them in his training gear and d’Artagnan blushed slightly. It wasn’t her fault that seeing him in something that wasn’t black, the padded training gear was blue, made him look really, really good. Aramis noticed and grinned slightly.

           “The Spanish King wrote to Louis demanding he put a stop to Bonnaire’s activities.” Athos sat down at the table. “Spies were sent to make sure he didn’t escape while in route and to shot him if he did.”

           “Bonnaire’s in business with the Cardinal. He won’t be punished just rewarded.” At Porthos look Aramis raised his glass. “Well here’s to us. Dying together on some forgotten battlefield while Bonnaire ends his days old and fat and rich.” He dumped the glass out behind him.

           “That man will go on to destroy over thousands of lives.” Porthos growled. “There’s not a damn thing we can do to stop him.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Émile Bonnaire was back in his favorite haunt in La Have. He had yet to find a boat to charter and was drinking to his dead wife’s memory. His new clothes, made of rich fabrics, stood out in the tavern and he was pouring drinks for everyone.

           “Tonight my friends the drinks are on me.”

“We had a deal Bonnaire.” His business associate from before reappeared and Émile stopped drinking.

           “Paul is that you?” When the man didn’t say anything Émile continued. “Yes I have a new business partner now Paul. You lay one finger on me and you’ll have the Cardinal to answer to.” Paul gestured and everyone moved out of the way of the men approaching Émile. “Uh I’m sure we can settle this like men of honor. And we should.” The shing of a sword being pulled from its sheath startled him and four men formed up around him.

           “Attack Bonnaire and you attack the king.” Athos tried not to smile at the part of the charade he was playing. The other men and d’Artagnan drew their swords as well.

           “Why are we doing this? He’s scum.” Porthos was actually not angry knowing where this was leading to. “He’s a slaver.”

           “He’s under our protection.” D’Artagnan was straight-faced.

           “Protection be damned.” Aramis broke from their formation.

           “We have our orders. We’ll obey them.”

           “I’ll kill you too if you get in my way.”

           “Gentleman.” Athos tried to get them to stop going at each other. Aramis and Porthos started fighting and Athos rolled his eyes. “GENTLEMAN!” They ignored him. “Bonnaire. There’s a ship waiting for you in the harbor. D’Artagnan will show you.” D’Artagnan dragged Émile out. As soon as the door closed Aramis and Porthos stopped fighting though Porthos threw a few more things for good measure.

           D’Artagnan led Émile to the ship smirking. The ship was a Spanish one holding the Spanish spy. Émile would be taken to Spain where they would lock him up. Once they reached the ship and Émile had climbed aboard d’Artagnan made herself scarce. She made his way back to the tavern where Aramis and Porthos were cleaning up the mess they had made.

           “He figured it out as soon as I vanished and was shouting for me. I ignored him.” Porthos turned to Aramis and grinned.

           “Admit it. I frightened you.”

           “I was quaking in my boots.” Aramis held up a hand that was fake shaking for dramatic effect.  Athos turned to the former business partner who had been instrumental in this entire ploy.

           “The key to Bonnaire’s warehouse. Everything in it is rightfully yours. If I were you I’d move it before the Cardinal takes an inventory.” The man nodded and left. “So as far as the Cardinal id concerned the Spanish kidnapped Bonnaire.”

           “And spirited him away.” Aramis raised his glass.

           “Embarrassing but there’s not much he can do about it.”

           “God speed Bonnaire. May your time in a Spanish prison be long and uneventful.” They all toasted and then Athos took himself off to his corner to drink. Aramis turned his attention to d’Artagnan. “So tell me little one. Why do you blush like a schoolgirl every time Athos looks at you? Did something happen?” d’Artagnan blushed and took a sip of her wine.

           “Nothing happened.”

           “You know Athos Aramis. He won’t make a move on a teammate.” At her blush Porthos looked at her and swore. “He didn’t?”

           “I pulled him out of the fire at his house and he kissed me.” She hid her mouth with her glass as Aramis and Porthos stared at her. Their heads spun around to look at Athos then back at her. She sighed. “Boys he was drunk and in shock. I honestly think he didn’t mean it.”

           “Well this is a development. Mademoiselle I do believe that you have a suitor in him.”

           “I don’t want suitors.”

           “Then a lover perhaps.” D’Artagnan spat out the mouthful of wine she had just partook in at Aramis’ comment.

           “Hardly. I doubt he meant anything but it.” She sighed knowing Aramis could read her like a book. He flirted with her enough that he knew all of her reactions and thoughts. “If he were offering it I probably would take him up on the offer however I would bet that I would end up completely naked surrounded by Red Guards before that ever happened.”

           “Now darling if you follow what I’m about to say to the letter I’m sure that you’ll have him in your bed by the time the month is out.” D’Artagnan listened to what Aramis said with rapt attention and Porthos grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

           For the next month whenever she had the chance she followed Aramis’ instructions. She touched Athos whenever she could. Most of the time it was a gentle hand on his arms or a friendly clap on the shoulder. A few times she had dragged him back to his rooms when he had too much to drink. She had also taken to loosening the binding on her chest so that when she was in her shirt the slight swell of her breasts was visible to those who knew. It didn’t show under her doublet at all and she made sure to wear that whenever she left the garrison. The times they had ridden out she had made sure he accidently saw her washing. A few times she had actually been full on bathing in a pond or river. The rest he had caught her with her shirt off. Her bindings had been on, but it had been enough to make him blush.

           Now she was standing in the palace garden with the other four glancing at Athos from under her eyelashes. Because of the risk she had made sure, her half corset was tightened as tight as she could stand. She knew that Athos would have just made Aramis tighten it if she hadn’t. She was fuming. The heat wasn’t helping matters and they were in full gear. She just wanted to stomp over to Athos and yank him into a kiss.

           “Heat. Flies. Boredom. I do so love parades.” Porthos’ voice was only loud enough to be heard by them. “I’m thinking about fainting just for something to do.” Athos looked at Porthos then noticed Aramis.

           “What’s wrong with him?”

           “Have you forgotten about the massacre in Savoy?” Athos nodded slightly and d’Artagnan nudged him.

           “What massacre?” d’Artagnan instantly forgot her question when the Duke of Savoy’s carriage. As the Duke got out of his carriage d’Artagnan thought she saw something in the trees. She took a step forward to try to get a better look then fell back into line. Suddenly a shot rang out and a musket ball hit a servant.

           “Get the king to safety.” Treville’s yell rang out over people’s screams. The musketeers ran towards the tree line. D’Artagnan pointed out where she thought she had seen somebody. She couldn’t see whoever it was, but she was sure he was nearby somewhere. The part of the gardens he had run to was open, but they couldn’t see anyone. The split up when they hit the hedge maze.

           Aramis was the one who found the rope. Giving it a tug he realized that it was supposed to be an escape route. Walking through the pillars, he looked around. He heard a bird startle and glanced in that direction only to be grabbed from behind and a knife pressed to his throat.

           “Hello, old friend.”

           “Marsac?” The man pulled off his mask. In doing so, he loosened his grip on Aramis. Aramis elbowed him in the face. Grabbing the wrist around his throat, he pulled, spun the man, and kicked him in the crotch. Taking the knife he had at his throat only a few moments before he pointed it at the man on the ground.

           “First a deserter and now an assassin.”

           “You don’t understand. It was the Duke of Savoy who led the attack and killed our friends five years ago.”Aramis tossed the knife to the side. It clanged on hard ground. He turned as if to leave and pulled his gun out pointing it at Marsac.

           “Put your weapon on the ground.”

           “They were our friends Aramis.”

           “Now.” Marsac pulled his sword free and tossed it behind Aramis.

           “Aramis please listen to me.” Aramis yanked the man up and hid him behind a pillar as Athos and Porthos ran by. “Thank you.” Aramis glowered and punched Marsac hard in the stomach. He threw the other man onto the ground.

           “That’s for leaving me alone in the forest with twenty dead musketeers.”

           “Have you never asked yourself what really happened that night?” Marsac struggled to his feet but stayed behind the pillar. Aramis paced. “All these years we thought it was the Spanish that butchered our friends. It was the duke.”

           “How do you know?” Aramis pushed him against the pillar. “The raiding party were all masked.”

           “I’ve made it my life’s work to find out the truth.” Aramis pushed him against the pillar and turned. The sound of a pistol priming made him look to his left. D’Artagnan stood there, her pistol pointed at Marsac. She looked at Aramis in confusion.

           “Care to tell me what’s going on?” Aramis sighed and gestured at Marsac. As d’Artagnan walked towards Aramis he moved closer to her and made sure to hold his hands in a calming gesture.

           “Marsac’s an old friend.”

           “An old friend? An old friend who just tried to kill the Duke of Savoy.”

           “Hear him out.” Aramis put enough pleading in his voice that d’Artagnan lowered her pistol. “Marsac was one of the best soldiers in the regiment.”

           “He’s a musketeer?” d’Artagnan raised her pistol again.

           “He was.”

           “We were brothers once.” Aramis walked towards Marsac a glint in his eye. “For the sake of our old friendship let me prove what I know.” Aramis glanced towards d’Artagnan and gestured with his head. They walked out of Marsac’s hearing and Aramis sighed.

           “I need you to keep quiet about this. For now. Like I kept quiet about your secret until it had to come out.”

           “Have you gone mad?”

           “Possibly. But,” Aramis glanced over his shoulder, “I owe him my life.” D’Artagnan put away her pistol and raised a finger, poking Aramis in the chest.

           “If this gets me hanged I’m going to take it very personally.” Aramis clasped her hand in his and held it to his chest.

           “Mademoiselle I would gladly swear ten times over to any judge, men of faith, or even the king that you had nothing to do with this.” When d’Artagnan rolled her eyes he smiled and went back to Marsac. “Let’s get you out of here and to some place safe for you to stay.” D’Artagnan turned and went back to her searching.

           “What is between you and the lovely young man?” Marsac nudged him. “You’re treating him like one of your lady friends.”

           “It is all in jest. He is head over heels for our leader. Besides you remember Porthos do you not? I’m with him and he insists I remain constant. At least, when it comes to men. I have all the free rein I want with the ladies.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos watched as Treville stormed out of the Cardinal’s rooms muttering something about Savoy and spys and chancellors. He was the only one back from the search so far and only because he was coming to report to their majesties. He fell in step with Treville as he walked off.

           “We are to be watching the duke at all times. For his protection of course.” Athos looked Treville over and raised an eyebrow.

           “Is there something I should be made aware of.”

           “You don’t want to be part of this. Trust me. Speaking of things of that nature here.” Treville pulled a few coins from his purse and slipped them to Athos. Athos nodded and pulled out the separate purse he kept for contributions to d’Artagnan’s upkeep.

           “For the settlement of the bet about Aramis being able to make that impossible shot last week I assume?”

           “Of course. I don’t see how you manage to keep dragging me into making bets on your ridiculous competitions but yet it somehow always happens.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Aramis and d’Artagnan met at Constance’s house. Marsac was bound by a length of rope that was attached to Aramis’ wrist. When Constance came in he hastily covered it with his cloak.

           “So Monsieur Marsac I assume you’re a soldier.” She gathered bolts of cloth in her arms and shot a look at d’Artagnan. She internally sighed, knowing that Constance had seen the restraint.

           “No, he’s a cabinet maker.” Aramis was quick to lie, but Constance pursed her lips and shot him a look.

           “Cabinet maker?” Marsac glanced at Aramis.

           “The best.”

           “Of course. That is exactly what I am.” As Marsac continued to natter on about wood Aramis looked at d’Artagnan who shook her head indicating that Constance wasn’t buying it.

           “How long will you be staying.” D’Artagnan cut in before Marsac could answer.

           “Just a few days.”

           “Can’t he answer for himself?”

           “No he’s very, very shy and he doesn’t go out much. If ever.”

           “Well if you’re willing to vouch for him he can stay in d’Artagnan’s room.” D’Artagnan narrowed her eyes at Marsac when she noticed how he was watching Constance.

           “She’s married. And a friend.”

           “I was merely admiring from a distance.”

           “Make it as far away as possible.” D’Artagnan hastily went upstairs and packed up everything that marked her as a female, shoving it in Constance’s room to recover later. Aramis and Marsac came up a moment later and Aramis bound Marsac to the bedframe. D’Artagnan watched through a crack in her door as Marsac and Aramis had a quiet moment together talking. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes briefly. Constance came up next to her.

           “Do I want to know?”

           “He will be tied up and won’t bother you. It truly is for a few days.”

           “Go sleep at Aramis’ rooms. Aramis can take your place here while that man is in your room. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind and would even send Porthos to keep an eye on you.” Aramis walked out of the room at that moment and sighed.

           “This will be difficult. We need to tell Athos and Porthos. D’Artagnan, among the three of us we’ll figure out where you will be staying.” They walked out of the house.

           “What happened in Savoy?”

           “It was a training exercise. We had no reason to be on our guard. We were attacked in the night. Most of our men killed as they slept. Marsac and I knew we were going to die, but we fought, side by side, regardless. Like soldiers.”

           “How did you survive?”

           “I was wounded. Marsac dragged me to safety in the woods. He didn’t go back to fight. He hid in the trees watching the massacre. When I woke up the next morning I found him sitting amongst the bodies overcome with shame and remorse. He felt he should have died too.” The two of them sat on the lip of the well in silence. “He ripped off his uniform and rode away. I should have stopped him, told him that he hadn’t done anything wrong and that throwing his own life away would do nothing. He had just saved my life and I let him ruin his own. In his own eyes, he’s a coward and a deserter. Not in mine.” D’Artagnan stilled Aramis’ hand that was playing with a coin.

           “Aramis I trust you’re judgment. I wasn’t there when it happened and I did not know him before. If you think he is a good man, a man who can be trusted in his story, then I will follow your lead.” She smiled slightly. “That doesn’t mean, however, that I am going to tell Treville that we supposedly lost the assassin. Or Athos for that matter.”

           “We should go report in and face their wrath.”

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan was right. Treville was beyond mad at them for supposedly losing the assassin. They followed him through the garrison while he bellowed at them. Athos supported them but shot them a look when Treville’s back was turned that made it clear he didn’t believe them. His face was, even more, disbelieving when d’Artagnan told them that she had slipped and, therefore, hadn’t seen the assassin. The two of them relaxed when they weren’t assigned palace duty in the morning. They walked down the stairs together ignoring Porthos and Athos until the other two men caught up to them at the gate.

           “Hey.” Porthos voice was deep with anger and concern.

           “You were hiding something.” Athos was straight to the point.

           “No idea what you mean.” Aramis shrugged. D’Artagnan didn’t even bat an eyelash when Athos turned to her.

           “You too. What is it?” She thought for a moment and looked at Aramis

           “If you don’t tell them I will.” Porthos and Athos looked between the two of them. It was Porthos who voiced the thought the both had.

           “Tell us what?”

 

* * *

 

 

           Constance was not at all amused when they all made it back to her house and told her the truth about Marsac.

           “You brought a wanted man into my house. A deserter.”

           “Deserter and assassin.” Athos was sitting in one of the chairs at the table. Porthos was leaning against the fireplace.

           “I guess they didn’t tell you that part did they?”

           “Failed assassin technically.” Marsac choose that moment to chime in.

           “Oh quiet you. I don’t want to hear about it.” She turned towards d’Artagnan. “I trusted you.”

           “D’Artagnan’s not to blame. He behaved with honor.” Aramis was trying to make good on his promise, but it was obvious that Constance didn’t believe him.

           “Honor? Honorable people don’t lie to their friends.”

           “Apologies for the deception. I’ll leave immediately.” Aramis reached out his hand to press on Marsac’s shoulder. They all wanted him under guard in a safe place.

           “You can stay.” She stomped over to d’Artagnan. “But you can pack your things.” With her back to Marsac, she smiled and nodded slightly before she left the room. D’Artagnan relaxed. She now had a valid reason to spend the night elsewhere. Even still she played along.

           “That hardly seems fair.” Constance slammed the door in her face. Porthos chuckled slightly.

           “She’ll forgive you just give her time.” D’Artagnan looked around and saw all of them smiling.

           “How much time?”

           “A decade or two maybe.” Athos shifted in his chair when Porthos was finished. Everyone looked at him.

           “Have you both completely lost your minds.” They both braced for the tongue lashing. It was Marsac who opened his mouth first, however.

           “Perhaps Athos doesn’t care about twenty dead musketeers.”

           “Insulting a man who holds your life in his hands. I see you are a fool as well as a coward.” Marsac jumped to his feet and Athos was up instantly as well. Aramis got between them.

           “Just hear him out. If you’re not satisfied I’ll do whatever you suggest.” Athos didn’t move and Marsac correctly interpreted it as a chance to speak.

           “There’s someone you should speak to first.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Marsac led them down to the catacombs. In one area there was a man dressed in Savoy colors hanging by his arms. Marsac punched him a few times.

           “I found him in a bar, bragging about killing musketeers.” He shook the man. “Tell them what you told me.”

           “Easy.” D’Artagnan had her hand on the grip of her sword. “He can’t talk if he’s out cold.” The man talked telling his story. On easter five years before he had been in the pay of Savoy. What he had been told was that the french had come to stage a coup and put the duke’s son in power. When Marsac attacked him again the man told them who had given them the tip-off and the location of the camp. The name the man gave was Treville.

           Athos remembered how angry Treville had been when he had walked out of his meeting with the cardinal. They had been talking about Savoy, Chancellors, and spys. He quickly moved between Marsac and Porthos when Marsac had said something that had provoked Porthos. He wasn’t listening to what he was saying to defuse the situation. He wasn’t paying attention during the meeting they had out of earshot of Marsac and the man. Athos was planning. No one was paying attention to Marsac until suddenly he was stabbing the witness. Athos ran to try to pull him off of the witness, but it was too late. He was dead.

 

* * *

 

 

           They were walking through the streets, Marsac trying to convince them that Treville was guilty.

           “Athos is right. There is no proof.” Aramis was adamantly with his friends. Marsac looked at him disgusted.

           “Don’t you want revenge?”

           “I want justice.” Porthos moved up.

           “This is the captain we’re talking about.”

           “Which is why we owe it to him to clear his name.” Aramis could see the approval in Athos’ eyes with his statement.

           “So really we’d be doing him a favor.” D’Artagnan was happy with the outcome of their discussion. She knew Treville was part of the group shelling out the money to keep her fed, clothed, and living in a good place. She also knew that he suspected that she was female which is why he was doing it. She appreciated that he was giving her the chance to prove herself instead of sending her home to marry a farmer or be chosen as a toy for the lord.

           “Let’s hope he sees it that way.” Aramis was staring at the ground trying to banish the images of his murdered friends from his memory.

           “This is not your business.” Marsac pointed at d’Artagnan. “You aren’t even a musketeer.” D’Artagnan rolled her eyes.

           “Apparently neither are you.” Marsac threw himself at her only to be caught by Porthos. Aramis and Athos both had their hands on their sword hilts.

           “Don’t go there.” Porthos shoved Marsac off him. “Not if you enjoy breathing.” Marsac looked at the four of them. There was a secret here that involved d’Artagnan. He wanted to know what is was.

           “I need to know the truth.” Aramis looked at Athos.

           “I don’t believe Treville is guilty and I never will.” Athos was glancing at d’Artagnan out of the corner of his eye making sure she was alright. She shrugged slightly. “But we won’t stand in your way. Do what you have to do.” Athos turned to face them. “One condition. Marsac stays under house arrest.” The three men started to lead Marsac back to the house but paused when Aramis spoke again.

           “During the massacre, I wounded their leader. A cut across the back. If it was the duke who lead the attack he’ll still carry the scar.”

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan went back to Constance's house and began packing her bag to spend the night elsewhere. She reclaimed her bag of woman’s stuff and put clothes on top of it. Constance came in.

           “I killed a man for you and yet you still don't trust me.” They both know Marsac was nearby so they decided to play their parts.

           “I was trying to protect you.”

           “I don’t want protection. I want to be treated as an equal.”

           “Well, I made a promise to Aramis.” Constance came in and handed her some fresh cloth pads for her monthly bleeding which was due to start soon. D’Artagnan nodded her thanks.

           “So you chose him over me?”

           “Its not that simple ok? It’s a question of loyalty.” She slammed her bag around then turned towards the door where Constance had retreated. “I’m sorry alright? I won’t make the same mistake next time.”

           “Next time? What makes you think there will be a next time?”

           “I was hoping you would change you mind.”

           “Try again in a week.” Constance slammed out of the room and d’Artagnan grinned. Shouldering her pack she went to Porthos’ rooms for the night. Porthos was on Marsac duty but had given her the key.

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos was grumpy that morning. He knew that d’Artagnan had spent the night in Porthos’ rooms and was, to put it plainly, jealous. He had offered to let her use his bed while he slept on the floor, but she had refused. Why should anyone give up their bed when Porthos wasn’t using his that night. When he had seen her that morning at Constance’s house she had more rested than she had in a while. She said something about Porthos’ bed being more comfortable than her own when he asked her. She had also mentioned that Aramis had come by and stayed to keep an eye on her. Athos also knew from past experience on the road that the only way d’Artagnan slept that well was when she curled up next to someone who gave her extra body heat. So he was jealous. Jealous that she had chosen Porthos’ rooms over his and jealous that Aramis had shared the bed with her and spent the night with his arm wrapped around her waist. And now he had to babysit the Duke of Savoy.

           The duke was throwing a fit about having musketeer guards. He was ranting and raving at the king and the cardinal. The cardinal was trying to reason with him, but he was throwing a fit worthy of the king. Suddenly a glove was presented to Athos.

           “I will fight a duel with this musketeer. If he wins, then we discuss the treaty. But if I triumph, then I return home immediately.” The duke walked to one corner of the room to get ready for the duel. At Treville’s nod, Athos sighed and began stripping down to his shirt. Porthos took his doublet, cloak,  gun, dagger, and belts. Athos could hear the cardinal fussing with Treville about if he could win or not. He smiled slightly and Porthos relaxed.

           “This way we can see if there is a scar on his back at least. And you will have a release for all that murderous energy you’ve been radiating. Don’t tell me you’re annoyed with Aramis for wanting to keep and eye on d’Artagnan.”

           “I would have rather he had done it in a different way.” Athos moved to stand in the middle of the room. He knew that he would have to do a few messy moves and pretend he was not as good as he was. He also knew that he could not badly harm the duke as he was the king’s brother-in-law.

           The duel started with the duke attacked. Athos parried but let himself be driven back. The duke punched him hard in the face, hitting his jaw and he barely blocked his next thrust. He let himself be thrown to the ground. He saw Porthos move slightly and shook his head minutely. Porthos calmed and continued to hold his stuff. Athos got back to his feet and engaged with his actual skill. When the duke drew his dagger he caught the hand holding it and spun the man then disengaged. After a few more parries he got the opening he was looking for and threw the man to the ground. He approached and held the sword below the duke’s collarbone. He could he Treville calling his name and ignored him. He slightly flicked the sword drawing blood then walked back to Porthos. Porthos slung an arm around his shoulder.

           “I’m glad it was you. If it was me I would have cut his bloody head off.” Treville stormed over.

           “Your job was to win not to start a war. You could have done it in a way that left him his dignity. Go and apologize.” When Treville walked off Athos raised and eyebrow.

           “Well, let me go apologize.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos heard the chancellor and the duke talking when he approached the room. It was the same name Treville had been muttering when he had left his meeting with the cardinal. They turned when he let his footsteps be heard.

           “What is it?”

           “I have come to apologize. I was overzealous.” The duke approached him and nodded.

           “You want a fair fight?” He turned and pulled his shirt off. Athos refused to react at the sight of the scar. “You wanted to kill me. I saw it in your eyes. Why?”

           “You’re mistaken. What motive could a musketeer possibly have for wanting to kill the Duke of Savoy?” He bowed slightly and turned to leave. Porthos was waiting by the main door. “Did you hear all that?”

           “I saw the scar too. Marsac was right about the duke.”

           “That doesn’t mean he was right about Treville. Perhaps we should find out what Monsieur Guntar really knows.” Porthos nodded and followed the chancellor when he left. He found him in a tavern meeting with someone who he could only guess was a prison guard. He watched as money exchanged hands and the guard described one of the prisoners.

 

* * *

 

 

           When Athos returned to Constance’s house it was to compare notes. He discovered that Aramis had searched the captain’s room and found nothing about the musketeers who went to Savoy. That was particular because the captain kept meticulous records. However, d’Artagnan and he thought that there was a good explanation. Once again Marsac begged to help. Athos sighed and drew his knife cutting the bindings on Marsac’s wrists.

           The four of them; Aramis, Porthos, d’Artagnan, and Athos; went to confront the captain. He was surprised to see them when they were there.

           “Five years ago you ordered a troop of musketeers into Savoy on a training exercise. They were all killed. All except Marsac and myself.”

           “I remember.” It was Porthos who spoke up next.

           “At the time, the attack was blamed on a Spanish raiding party.”

           “What do you mean at the time?”

           “We have information that it was actually the Duke of Savoy who was responsible.” D’Artagnan refused to look Treville in the eyes. She didn’t want to be here. Aramis moved forward.

           “You don’t seem surprised.”

           “The only thing that surprises me is your dereliction of duty. Get back to your posts before I lose my temper.” Treville headed to his office. Aramis followed after him.

           “Did you know it was the duke?”

           “I’m not accountable to you.” The other three followed Aramis and Treville.

           “But you are to men who died.” Aramis was persistent.

           “Be careful Aramis. You’re in dangerous territory.”

           “Not as dangerous as Savoy was for your men.” Porthos was growling.

           “I’m going to put this down to a fit of temporary insanity. Leave now and we’ll say no more about it.”

           “How did out orders get into the duke’s hands?” Aramis finally asked the questions he had so desperately wanted to. “Who told him where we were camping? Why did he think we were coming to attack him?”

           “GET OUT!”

           “WHO KILLED THOSE MUSKETEERS AND WHY?!” Aramis exploded. Treville froze and looked around at the others.

           “Who have you been speaking to?”

           “It doesn’t matter.” Athos moved forward. “What matters is the truth.” Treville took a deep breath.

           “Leave. Now. And I’ll spare you a court martial. I’m not giving you a chance you don’t deserve.” Aramis moved forward and Athos caught his arm.

           “One last time. Will you answer our questions?”

           “No. I will not.” The four of them left. Athos slammed his shoulder into one of the posts holding the roof up.

           “Marsac is right.” Aramis blew past them towards the stairs. “How much more proof do we need?”

           “Treville didn’t admit anything.” D’Artagnan stayed calm and moved towards Aramis who stopped. She hoped she could calm him down before the entire garrison heard their conversation. Aramis took a deep breath and turned around.

           “He didn’t need to. It was written on his face.”

           “But the captain is the finest man I’ve ever met.” Porthos moved next to d’Artagnan. “And when it comes down to it I’d rather be on his side than Marsac’s.”

           “You may be content to do nothing. I’m not.” Aramis left. Athos grabbed d’Artagnan’s arm when she tried to follow.

           “Let him cool down. He’ll only say something he’ll regret if you follow him now. Go back to Constance’s. Get out of this rain before you catch a chill.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek and then pulled his waterproof cloak off and wrapped it around her. Before he let her out in the rain he pulled the hood up. Giving her a gentle push he sent her on her way. Porthos chuckled behind him.

           “Not one word.”

           “Your tender side is showing. Pretty soon big, scary Athos won’t make her pay attention anymore because she knows you’re a giant softy inside.”

           “I don’t need her sick. She doesn’t have the gear to handle a rain this bad and she can’t exactly change into dry clothes at Constance’s with Marsac around.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Marsac was intent on flirting with Constance when d’Artagnan arrived. She hung the cloak up by the door to let it dry and stood near the kitchen. She didn’t trust Marsac with unbound hands. Constance was doing a good job of telling him no, but she wanted to be on hand just in case.

           “If I were d’Artagnan I’m guessing you would be a lot more receptive.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. Constance tried to pull away.

           “Don't touch me.”

           “Is one kiss to much to ask for from a man who has been alone for so long.” Constance slapped him with her free hand. Marsac surged up and grabbed her around the waist pushing her onto the table. Constance continued to fight. D’Artagnan opened up the kitchen door and entered. She grabbed Marsac and pulled him off Constance, punching him and throwing him to the floor in the same move.

           “Touch her again and I’ll kill you.”

           “My apologies.” Marsac held up his hands. “I used to be a man of honor. A musketeer. Now I hardly recognize myself.” Marsac stood up. “I beg your forgiveness. I’m sorry.” He lunged at d’Artagnan. The small dagger he held in his hand slashed open d’Artagnan’s shirt but deflected off her corset. D’Artagnan punched him hard and knocked him out. Dragging him upstairs she searched him for weapons again and tied him to the bed. Constance came up with another shirt and handed it to d’Artagnan. D’Artagnan slipped out of her doublet and pulled it on then laced her doublet up all the way in case he tried it again.

           “Let’s go downstairs. I hope one of the others is here soon.”

           “So do I.”

           “I just wish there was something I could do to make amends for all the trouble I’ve brought you.” Constance turned around.

           “There is one thing. No one in the world could not especially not my husband.”

           “Of course. What is it?”

           “Teach me how to shoot. Swordfighting as well. Why should men have all the fun? Why do woman have to be dignified and ladylike?”

           “Good question. I have no idea.” She grinned at Constance and gestured to take in her clothing. “I’m certainly not.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Treville was talking to the cardinal about Savoy when he heard the clink of the broken tile. He spun around and went back. When he saw Aramis hiding behind the pillar he glared.

           “What is it?”

           “Nothing.”

           “I must go. The duke is demanding an urgent meeting with the king.”

           “Why?”

           “I’ve no idea. Hopefully, he’s finally come to his senses.” Treville stopped and turned around as Aramis came out from behind the pillar. Treville stalked over to him.

           “You think you’re entitled to an explanation, but this is not your concern.”

           “You and the cardinal. As thick as thieves. Twenty dead musketeers. That makes it my concern.”

           “You think I won’t have you arrested? That you’ve above the normal laws of soldiering?”

           “Did you betray your own men to the Duke of Savoy?”

           “You are meddling in complex affairs of state.”

           “It’s a simple question. Did you do it?” Treville stood silent for a minute then opened his mouth.

           “Yes.” Aramis lashed out and punched him twice.

           “This isn’t over.” He ran off. When he reached Constance’s house he freed Marsac.

           “What will you do now?” Marsac rubbed his wrists as he talked.

           “Report Treville to the authorities. He’ll face a court martial.”

           “With the cardinal involved there won’t even be a trial. We have to act Aramis. Handle this ourselves.”

           “I’m a soldier. Not a vigilante.”

           “That girl has made you soft. If you want justice then this is the only way.”

           “Its not my way.” Aramis turned around the froze. “What girl Marsac?”

           “You didn’t know?” Marsac smiled. “She’d be a looker if she grew her hair out and stopped binding down her chest. Almost as good looking as that lovely Constance. But alas, she decides to play soldier. I bet she’s lovely in bed. You, Porthos, and Athos must be so lucky.” He punched Aramis and Aramis fell banging his head against the wall and falling unconscious to the floor.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan, Porthos, and Athos were at the garrison when the Duchess of Savoy arrived. She came alone, her face and dress concealed by a black cloak. The all bowed when her identity was revealed.

           “I have no time for explanations. There’s an important prisoner held somewhere here, in Paris.”

           “You mean Cluse?”

           “You know him?”

           “Not exactly, but we know where to find him.”

           “The duke is on his way to find him right now. For the sake of France, he must not discover him. Many lives are at stake, including my own.”

           “We can’t stop the duke from entering the prison.”

           “Yeah but that doesn’t mean he needs to find him inside.” The three of the road off to the prison at a gallop. The duchess rode with them. They grabbed one of the guards at a side entrance and forced him to show them the way while the other guards stalled the duke at the main gates. When they reached the room they pulled Cluse out and replaced him with sarge. The wrapped in the cloak and put the glasses on his face. Quickly they pulled the guard that the duchess had knocked unconscious out of the cell and d’Artagna took his place outside the door. Porthos held Cluse so he could not escape and could not shout. The door closed right before the duke turned the corner. The Cardinal was attempting to dissuade him from looking in the cell. He froze when he recognized d’Artagnan then ordered the door open. The duke walked in only to find the decoy.

           “Clearly there has been some mistake. How awkward.” The cardinal managed to keep the amusement from his voice. “Would you like a tour of all of our prisons? No? Then maybe we can turn our attention to more important matters.”

           “You incompetent fool.” The duke glared at his chancellor and left. When the cardinal passed d’Artagnan he nodded. As soon as they were gone the real Cluse was put back in his cell.

 

* * *

 

 

           Aramis woke up on the floor. His pistol was gone and he shook himself. Quickly he got up and ran to the garrison.

           Treville was putting away a musket when he heard Marsac’s voice.

“Treason has to be paid for Captain Treville.”

           “I always thought you’d be back one day.”

           “Was it money? Were you paid by the duke?”

           “If you think that you know nothing about me.” Treville backed towards the gunpowder storage.

           “I’m going to blow you to hell now. But first I want to know why.” A second pistol priming made Treville look up. Aramis was there pointing a pistol at Marsac.

           “Put your gun down Marsac.” Marsac pulled his second pistol. “Whatever you think the captain has done he will account for it at a court martial.”

           “There will be not court martial. The king knows what happened. I was acting on his instructions.”

           “The king told you to betray us?”

           “I was told to pass on your position to the duke. Those were my orders and I obeyed them.”

           “What reason can there be for sanctioning the slaughter of your own men?”

           “It was done to protect the king’s most important spy in Savoy. The duchess.”

           “You sold us out to save the duchess?”

           “Cluse was a Spanish spy. He began to suspect she was passing us information. We had to distract the duke and snatch Cluse before he exposed her.”

           “Twenty of our friends were murdered.”

           “I was misled. The cardinal led the duke to believe that your mission was an assassination attempt.” Aramis took a breath and took a firmer grip on his pistol.

           “Put the guns down.”

           “You heard him. He’s guilty.”

           “And you heard his reasons. Put them down.” Aramis watched his friend. “Marsac.”

           “This has to end here Aramis. You know that.” Marsac shot at Aramis and missed. Aramis, in turn, took a shot and pulled his second gun. The second ball hit Marsac. Aramis ran to him and gently lowered him to the ground.

           “I’m sorry old friend.”

           “Better to die like a musketeer than to live like a dog. The girl? Keep her safe. She’s a fighter.” Aramis held his friend as he died. Treville stood next to him.

           “I don’t believe I heard what he said at the end you know. My ears were still ringing.” Aramis glanced up at Treville and smiled slightly.

           “I’m sure d’Artagnan appreciates it.”

 

* * *

 

 

           After the duke and his entourage left, life went back to normal. Or as normal as it was for the musketeers. D’Artagnan began teaching Constance how to shoot. She still had her normal training during the day, but occasionally Athos would let her out early to teach Constance. D’Artagnan had gone back to her tricks to try to get Athos to invite her to his bed. She even went as far as curling up next to him and falling asleep while they were out on a mission. She had woken to find herself across the clearing curled up in Porthos’ arms. Porthos was just as confused as her. Athos had told her that Porthos was the warmest one in the group and that if she didn’t want to be cold she should sleep next to him. Aramis had laughed at the entire thing when the three of them had been alone.

           Finally, one day d’Artagnan went to Athos’ rooms and knocked. Athos answered the door and glared at her. She was wearing a dress with her hair covered by a cloak. No one would recognize her if the saw her.

           “What do you want?”

           “Can I come in? You don’t want me doing this out here.” Athos stood aside and she entered. He closed the door behind her. She turned around and held out the cloak he had let her borrow in the rain that day. “This is yours.”

           “You could have done this outside…” Athos was cut off by warm lips touching his. He froze briefly them yanked away. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

           “You kissed me. Back when I pulled you out of the fire. Since then you’ve been kind to me. Porthos said you were outright jealous when I spent the night in his rooms because Marsac was in mine.”

           “And that made you think I liked you? I was not jealous. I was annoyed at having to babysit a bunch of nobles instead of doing my job. Now get out.” He opened the door and shoved her out. She turned and he slammed it in her face. He heard her leave. He let himself sag and slide down the door. He reached into the chest of drawers he had next to the door and pulled out a bottle of wine. He intended to drink himself into a stupor and forget what just happened. He wanted to try to forget any and all feelings he had for d’Artagnan.

           D’Artagnan rushed blindly towards Porthos’ rooms. She knew that both Aramis and Porthos would be there. They had encouraged her to do this and were waiting in case he turned her down. When she made it she knocked on the door. Aramis opened it almost instantly and pulled her into a hug. She began sobbing and Porthos closed the door behind her. Aramis lifted her up and settled her on the bed. The two of them gently rubbed her back until she calmed down. Porthos convinced her to stand up and undid the laces of her corset. Aramis undid the tie that held her skirt on leaving her in only her chemise and loose pants underneath. When he offered her male clothes she smiled slightly and they both turned around until she could get her smallclothes and pants on. Aramis came to help her with the half-corset and helped her into her shirt. She leaned into him.

           “Apparently he doesn’t want me.”

           “We figured that one out pretty quickly sister.” Aramis rubbed her back and pulled back so that he could look into her face. Porthos and Aramis had taken to calling her their sister in private and their brother in public. As they had explained to Athos she was their sister-in-arms. And if they could call each other brother they could call her sister in private.

           “He’s blind if he doesn’t find you attractive.” D’Artagnan looked up at Porthos who stroked her cheek with his hand. Suddenly her face went red and she buried it in Aramis’ chest. Aramis smacked Porthos lightly.

           “We weren’t going to do this remember. We were going to leave her alone and let her pursue Athos.”

           “And he told her no. Probably slammed the door in her face. I’d say that’s enough to at least mention it to her.”

           “He did.” Both men looked at her where she was hiding her face in Aramis’ shirt.

           “Did what little one?” Aramis stroked her hair.

           “Slammed the door in my face. After he threw me out that is.” She heard Porthos growl and pulled away from Aramis. “Porthos no. Do not do anything to him. I’ll just pretend it didn’t happen and spend my time with you two. If that’s ok that is?” Porthos gently pulled her away and tipped her chin up.

           “It is more than ok. We were leaving you alone because you were pursuing Athos, but we both care deeply for you.” He leaned down and kissed her gently. Her breath hitched and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Reaching down, he lifted her up and carried her to the bed still kissing her. He pulled away gently and placed her ion the edge of the bed.

           “However tonight we are just going to sleep. You’ve had an emotionally rough day and we don’t want to take advantage of you right now. Now would you like to sleep in your shirt and smalls or the chemise?”

           “The chemise. It's more comfortable.” They helped her out of her shirt and slid the garment over her head. Aramis helped her remove the half corset and she quickly slid out of her pants and smalls. She climbed into the bed and lay in the middle. Aramis and Porthos slid in on either side of her after they blew out the candles. She fell asleep almost instantly.


	5. Chapter 5

         Aramis was awake the next morning when someone knocked lightly on the door. Careful not to wake either of his bed partners he slid out and went to the door. When he opened it he glared. Flicking the latch so the door wouldn’t lock him out he went outside and stood with his arms crossed over his bare chest glaring at Athos.

         “Where’s d’Artagnan? He was supposed to be in the garrison for training by now. The captain sent me to look for him and Constance says he never came home last night. She told me that she assumed he had spent the night here.”

         “D’Artagnan took sick last night. He will be fine, but I would not advise he come in today. Maybe tomorrow as well. Now run along. Porthos and I will be in as soon as we’re certain he’s ok.” Aramis turned and went back into the rooms slamming the door, locking it behind him. Despite his attempts at allowing the other two to sleep, they were awake. Porthos was glaring at the door and d’Artagnan was clinging to him. When Athos knocked again Porthos grumbled and climbed out of bed after gently disentangling d’Artagnan. While Athos knocked, Porthos got dressed and gathered his gear. He slammed out the door and grabbed Athos by his collar dragging him along. D’Artagnan giggled slightly. Aramis smiled and brushed the hair out of her face.

         “Porthos will make sure he won’t bother you for a while. Now I am most certainly not allowing you to go to the garrison today or tomorrow. Do you want to dress as a man or a woman today?” She fingered the edge of her chemise and looked up at him.

         “A woman.” Aramis helped her into her corset and skirt then helped tuck her hair under the bonnet. She, in turn, helped him with his buttons on his coat and his weapons belts. Aramis bent slightly and gave her a kiss before he left. A while later there was a knock on the door.

         “D’Artagnan it's Treville. Open up, please. Aramis and Porthos told me you were here.” D’Artagnan opened the door nervously and Treville slipped inside. He looked her over and nodded.

         “Why are you here sir?” Treville handed her the small satchel of food he carried.

         “Aramis told me what happened.” At her startled expression, he held out a hand. “I don’t know the details. All Aramis told me was that Athos was an idiot and that you were taking a few days off from coming in. I came to make sure you were ok and bring you the food Serge told me to. He made all of your favorites as soon as he heard that you were under the weather. I’m sure Aramis and Porthos will be bringing you more when they leave tonight.”

         “I’m fine sir. Aramis is just being protective. Thank you for the food.” Treville nodded and looked her over one more time shaking his head.

         “If anyone asks I was never here and I never saw this.”

         “Of course sir.” On his way out the door, she remembered something. “Sir.” He turned around and she smiled. “I just wanted to say thank you. I know you’ve been part of the group that’s been paying my rent and making sure there was money for food.” He smiled and left. She spent the day reading Porthos’ books. When they came home that night she laughed at the story of Porthos sparring with Athos and throwing him into the manure pile. Then Aramis had dumped a bucket of water over his head. She laughed until she cried and then fell asleep. The next day went very much the same as the day before. Athos woke them up with his knocking, the two left to go to the garrison dragging him along, and then they came back and told stories about how they had picked on Athos.

         After her days off she went back to the garrison. The other musketeers crowded around her when she first arrived relieved to see that she was well. She told them that she had developed a fever and that Aramis and Porthos had dragged her to Porthos’ rooms to nurse her back to health.

         “I was better the next morning for the first part. The fever exhausted me, however, and Aramis told me that I needed a few days rest to recover. But I’m better now. Who wants to spar with me?” Most of the men drifted off to do their duties. Athos was one of the men who approached her to spar, but she told him no. The other men looked between the two of them sensing something wasn’t right but didn’t comment. Instead, Porthos took Athos’ place in training her. She could feel each strike of their swords, Porthos hit hard, all the way through her arms. At the end, he managed to throw her to the ground and place the tip of his sword at her throat. She looked up at him for a moment then held out an arm to let him pull her to her feet.

         The week that followed was slow. They weren’t sent out anywhere. Treville always kept their small group at the garrison so that d’Artagnan wouldn’t be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with no place to hide from Athos. The only time they had left the garrison was to escort the king on a hunt on the grounds of the palace. Every time Athos had tried to approach d’Artagnan Aramis or Porthos appeared at her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

         It was Porthos’ birthday. The garrison was in an uproar and everyone was too drunk to notice anything at all. Athos was sticking close to d’Artagnan well he had the chance, both Aramis and Porthos were too inebriated and had forgotten that Athos wasn’t supposed to be near d’Artagnan. Athos had tried to bring up what had happened with d’Artagnan but every time she ignored him. Instead, she watched her the antics of her two lovers. Aramis was standing on a stool against one of the supports for the upper-level walkway. He placed a melon on his head. Porthos took aim down the barrel of his gun. Athos saw d’Artagnan glance at Porthos with worry on her face.

         “Don’t worry. He’s made this shot a hundred times.”

         “He’s drunk.”

         “He’s never made it sober.” The click of the pistol priming made Aramis take a deep breath. The musketeers counted down and Porthos shot. The melon exploded. Cheers rang out around the yard. Athos shot d’Artagnan a look that said I told you so then looked at Porthos. Aramis crossed the yard to meet them.

         “How about we try a blindfold?” Aramis shook his head and d’Artagnan relaxed, the tension she hadn’t known she was carrying bleeding away. Instead, the three of them dragged Porthos to a tavern.

 

* * *

 

 

         Porthos struggled to wake up. He was hungover he could tell that much. The light hurt his eyes and his head. He noticed that he was lying in the street and groaned. He had hoped that at least d’Artagnan would have made sure he made it home alright. Aramis was uselessly drunk usually if Porthos was drunk enough to need assistance and Athos had normally left to go drink in his own rooms alone. He rolled onto his side and saw a melon. Rolling to his other side, he froze. There was a man who had been shot in the head. Quickly or, at least, an attempt at quickly, he really shouldn’t have had this much to drink, he tried to get to his feet before the Red Guard found him. The Red Guard rounded the corner and stopped. He shoved himself to his feet in that instant.

         “Take him.” He fumbled for his pistol before he saw it on the ground. Picking up the melon he chucked it at them. He grappled with the first man that reached him and drew his sword. Freeing himself he fought the other two. He could hear more guards coming up behind him. They grabbed him and he fought until swords were placed at his throat. The captain of the patrol walked towards him sneering.

         “Musketeers.” He stepped over the body. “Always good for a little street theater.”

         “It's not what it looks like.”

         “No? So what is it then?” Porthos looked around at all the men and let himself be led away. He knew that Treville, Aramis, and d’Artagnan would help him out of this mess. Athos would be there, a silent presence that oozed disappointment.

 

* * *

 

 

         “You must remember something?” D’Artagnan had been at Constance’s when Aramis had come running for her. She was disappointed in herself. She should have made sure Athos walked Porthos home the night before. She could have done it herself even. Now the three of them were visiting him in his holding cell.

         “The dead man. Do you know who he was? Where you met him?” Aramis was standing between d’Artagnan and Athos. Athos had his back to the cell. Porthos could feel the disappointment in the air.

         “You didn’t kill him.” Athos eyes were wide and slightly crazy when he turned to look at Porthos. Porthos wished they were in his rooms instead of the prison. Athos always went a bit crazy when one of him men was accused of something, or hurt, or missing. All Porthos wanted to do was pull the man into his arms and reassure him that he was alright. D’Artagnan glanced at Athos then turned back to Porthos.

         “Do you need anything?”

         “A decent lawyer.” All of them scoffed. Athos voice was soft when he spoke again.

         “There’s been a misunderstanding. We’ll clear it up.”

         “And you never know. We might get lucky with a judge.” Porthos nodded. Despite the chances he knew Aramis was always optimistic.

 

* * *

 

 

         They weren’t lucky with a judge. The man was an old man with a beard like Santa Clause Porthos mused. He took one look at the color of Porthos’ skin and heard that the other man had been dressed in nice clothes and had light colored skin. He had made his mind up the moment those facts were stated.

         “I think it's clear what happened here.”

         “You’re honor,” Treville called out from his spot by the windows. Aramis was rubbing his temples next to him. “If I might say something.”

         “We’ll come to you Captain Treville.” The judge spat his name out so vehemently that Porthos could see d’Artagnan twitch at the insult. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

         “It was my birthday. The party was over so I took a walk.”

         “And what did you do on this walk?”

         “I, um, admired the beauty and serenity of Paris after dark.” He could hear the crowd behind him laughing at that gave him some courage. D’Artagnan cracked a small smile and ducked her head. His mind sent him into a memory of a tavern, an old lady, talk about birthdays…

         “What happened next?” The judge’s voice shredded the memory. Porthos took a deep breath.

         “I don’t exactly recall. I must have fallen asleep.”

         “To awake alongside a dead man with a bullet in his head?” Porthos glanced sideways at his friends knowing his next answer was going to sink him.

         “Yes.”

         “And you claim to have no idea how that happened?” Porthos shook his head, already planning how to get out of the guard’s grip and run. Treville stepped up in front of him.

         “Porthos Du Vallon is a man of fine reputation. A good soldier and a musketeer of many years standing.”

         “Du Vallon? Another of these fellows that adopt a noble name so that he can play the gentleman?”

         “I know many born gentleman who can not hold a candle to Porthos.”

         “Let the gentleman learn something that life has taught me, Captain. You can dress your dog in a fine suit but once a mongrel always a mongrel.” Porthos could hear Treville’s under his breath no. He knew that they realized what he had from the moment he had entered the courtroom. “A man lies dead. Murdered. An example must be made. Porthos Du Vallon, I find you guilty and sentence you to death, sentence to be carried out immediately.” Treville moved forward.

         “This is irregular sir! I will lodge an appeal with the king.”

         “That is your right captain. Take this man to the gallows.” Porthos was grabbed by the Red Guards. D’Artagnan tried to jump over the barricade, but Athos and Aramis grabbed her. Porthos glanced at d’Artagnan then at Aramis making sure that Aramis understood the message that he was to take care of their lover no matter what happened. Aramis let go when they ripped Porthos’ shoulder piece off and dragged him away. Athos had his arm around d’Artagnan waist and his hand holding her sword in her sheath as Porthos bellowed. Treville came over to them.

         “Deley them.” The three of them pushed through the crowd and ran as soon as they hit empty space. Shots rang out and they sped to the cart only to see people in rag masks attacking the guards. They could hear Porthos’ “Athos” and watched him get clubbed by one of the attackers.

         “Porthos.”

         “Musketeers. Go. Go.” d’Artagnan shot one of them taking the time to aim. Her shot hit the man and he fell out of the cart. Aramis grabbed her before she could take off running. They knelt next to the man and Athos pulled the mask off. Below his ear was a brand.

         “The mark of a criminal. I know where they’re heading.” Aramis relaxed slightly.

 

* * *

 

 

         Aramis led them to a series of hovels. D’Artagnan quieted her horse as something banged. They left their horses outside and walked in. D’Artagnan looked around at the people. They were banging and making a lot of noise. Athos looked relaxed. Aramis kept his eyes straight ahead.

         “Why are they doing that?” D’Artagnan was still ill at ease despite her companions’ calm.

         “It’s a warning.” Aramis spoke quietly. Instantly her hand went to her sword. “Do nothing unless you’re attacked.”

         “So where are we?”

         “The court of miracles.” Athos spoke dryly but he knew that Porthos would be safe here.

         “This is too dangerous. We should turn back.” Aramis looked up at the people above his head. The other two men turned around and started out. D’Artagnan stayed.

         “What about Porthos?”

         “He’ll be safe in there.” Athos took her shoulder and dragged her along with him. Aramis turned to face her. “He has friends here.” When they cleared the court they pulled d’Artagnan aside.

         “Porthos was an orphan. Born and raised here.”

         “Amongst thieves?” D’Artagnan was more curious than disbelieving. Porthos was always such a moral man. At Athos small nod she turned slightly. “He never said a word.” Aramis raised a hand holding two fingers close together.

         “A little touchy about it. I didn’t find out until I ended up in bed with him. And even then it took a few months. I wouldn’t have expected him to tell you for a while since you’re so new. He likes to not have his past overshadow his present” Aramis watched Athos’ face as he spoke. The man raged slightly then schooled his face into calmness.

         “So why do they call it the court of miracles?” A one-legged beggar walked by them holding out his begging bowl. Athos stepped in his path and pulled up his eyepatch.

         “Because entering it opens the eyes of blind men and gives more cripples the use of their legs than our lord ever did.” He cut the cord holding the man’s leg up. Dropping a few coins in the man’s bowl he nodded. “Buy an instrument. You have the hands of a musician.” The man ran off and Athos tapped his dagger on his shoulder. “I’m going in to find him.”

         “If Porthos was drunk, I’m sure it was an accident.” D’Artagnan glanced at Aramis who was ignoring her. She looked around at her surroundings and braced herself for their response. “But what if he’s guilty?” Aramis shoved her up against the wall.

         “This is Porthos. You understand?” Aramis stared at her. His eyes softened when she smiled slightly. At her nod, he let her go. She adjusted her doublet to cover her shirt better since Aramis had twisted it when he grabbed her. She noticed a figure all in black and with some brown, wearing a mask watching her. When the figure moved she realized the rags that looked to be nothing more then something to keep warm actually were a skirt. She continued watching while Athos gave them orders, trusting Aramis to listen for her. The woman walked into the court like she owned it. She turned around only once and made eye contact, or what d’Artagnan assumed to be eye contact. She couldn’t tell under the mask.

 

* * *

 

 

         Porthos came to with a bag over his head. His hands were bound and he was dragged through a series of twisting corridors. His guides made sure to keep him hunched over so that he couldn’t gain any leverage. His captures shoved him to his knees and the bag was pulled off him. He blinked in the light. The bag had been dark and he had some trouble adjusting. When his eyes did adjust he looked up at the figure in the chair.

         “Charon.” He tried to get to his feet and was shoved down. Porthos glared at the men as they stepped away. “Do that again and I’ll break your legs.”

         “It's been a while hasn’t it. Are you not glad to be back?” The man spoke, his voice quiet but commanding.

         “Yeah. Course. Why?” Porthos was looking around for a way to escape if this visit turned out to be less than pleasant.

         “’Cause we are still friends. Though you forgot about us a long time ago.” Charon glanced sideways as he spoke.

         “I didn’t forget.” Charon extended his hand and Porthos took it. He got to his feet. The guards around Charon moved and Charon held out a hand, stopping them.

         “Do you really not remember if you killed that man?”

         “No more idea than you.” At Charon’s expression Porthos spoke. “You seem disappointed.”

         “I have a reputation to think of. People here believe I just saved the life of a murderer.”

         “Maybe you did.” He walked towards Charon and the two men hugged. Porthos smiled slightly. “Are you the king here now?” Charon nodded and glanced towards the throne-like chair behind him.

         “King of sorts.” Porthos glanced at the figure dressed in all black with some brown, with a ragged skirt and black mask on. He would, at least, get one thing he wanted to do done while he was here.

         At Charon’s nod, the figure in black stepped forward and unmasked. Porthos tried to keep from laughing as his guess was confirmed. Flea, the woman who he had wanted to find to give d’Artagnan tips about dressing and passing as a male, stood before him her eyes twinkling at the dramatic unveiling.

         “Flea. Is that you?”

         “All these years and never one letter.”

         “How’d you know I learned to write? Hm?” At his words Charon laughed and Flea walked forward. Charon wrapped an arm around her before she could get to close to him. “You two are together now? That makes sense. I’m happy for you.”

         “You had your chance Porthos. If you wanted Flea you should have taken her with you.”

         “You think I didn’t try.” Charon looked annoyed at Porthos’ statement.

         “Rest now. Tomorrow we’ll get you out of here. Every minute you stay increases the risk to us all.” At his guard’s words, Charon left. Flea took his arm.

         “You forgot about us.”

         “I didn’t fit here. Besides, these last few months I’ve been looking for you. I have a friend who could use a few tips about becoming male.”

         “The lovely girl I saw outside with your other two friends? She’s doing quite well for herself. She just needs to stop fidgeting with her clothes. It’s a dead giveaway. Speaking of clothes,” Flea looked him up and down, “Let’s get you out of these. Someone might mistake you for a gentleman and slit your throat.”

 

* * *

 

 

         D’Artagnan had followed Aramis to one of the taverns near the court of miracles. She stood, braced against a pillar, while Aramis turned on the charm to gain information from one of the regulars. The woman fell for his charm and gave them the information that they needed. Mainly that Porthos had been here the night before, there had been an argument with a young man, and that the young man didn’t look the type to drink at that particular tavern. They left after giving her a coin and went to their next errand. Their next errand happened to be where Porthos had been found.

         “Where’s the blood?” After a pause and no answer from d’Artagnan he continued. “I saw a man take a musket ball in a street fight once. The contents of his skull painted a pretty picture all around.”

         “And yet there’s not a drop of blood. Or a shard of bone.” D’Artagnan came to the same conclusion that Aramis had already come to. “He wasn’t shot here.”

         “Perhaps we should pay a call on the victim himself. See what he has to say about it.” The two of them headed off to the morgue.

         D’Artagnan was trying not to vomit as the man they were following talked about preparing the bodies. His assistant was washing blood down the drain. Aramis rested a gentle hand on her shoulder and gestured with his head that she should go outside. She shook her head. She wanted to hear what this man had to say about their victim. The man confirmed that their victim was a son of the nobility and that he had been identified. He gave them the name and they left, but not after the man had gotten into an argument about gunshots with Aramis.

 

* * *

 

 

         Athos was dressed as one of the beggars in the court of miracles. His clothes were rough and he had left his distinguishing shoulder piece at home. He walked with a limp and he had rubbed dirt on his face. He looked all the part of one of the beggars of the court. He knew however that he had probably been spotted the moment he entered.

         He slipped into the catacombs when no one was watching him. He pulled off his hood only to notice the guards. The rushed him and he grabbed one, throwing him into the other. When they broke apart he grabbed the hand that was pointing a pistol at him. Pulling it over his shoulder, Athos used his elbow to slam into the man’s ribs knocking the breath out of him.

         He dodged the knife with ease and spun the man throwing him into a wall. He heard the priming of a pistol and stopped. Turning his head slightly, he saw a well-dressed man, in court of miracle standards that was, behind him.

         “I’m looking for Porthos.” He let the guards push him against the wall and didn’t fight the knife pressed to his throat.

         “He’s safe.” The well-dressed man answered without lowering the gun.

         “Then take me to him.”

         “He doesn’t want to see you.”

         “Give him a message. Tell him his friends will clear his name.”

         “You left him to die. We saved him. His real friends.”

         “Friends? You’d murder each other for the sake of a coin.”

         “Escort him out of here.” As they were leading him away Athos heard the man behind him. “And forget about Porthos. He’s with us now.”

 

* * *

 

 

         “This particular noble family was once among one of the most important in France.” D’Artagnan tried not to yawn at Treville’s history lesson. They had brought the young man’s identity to him and he had decided to give them a lecture. “They’ve fallen on hard times of late, but the father is still in the king’s circle. What was his son doing drinking in a place like The Wren?” Athos walked in and pulled off his gloves. D’Artagnan sat up.

         “No trace of Porthos but I ran into a friend of his. He thinks that we left him behind. That we abandoned him.”

         “Porthos fought harder than any of us to become a musketeer. He wouldn’t give us up that lightly.” Treville completely dismissed what Athos had said. D’Artagnan hunched back over. “Start by making a call on the young man’s father. Find out what kind of company his son kept.” The three of them left.

         “Thank you for saving me from the history lesson.” Athos stopped dead and d’Artagnan ran into him. Athos turned around and looked down at her.

         “You know that’s the first time you’ve spoken directly to me since you mysteriously got sick recently.” D’Artagnan flinched and Aramis moved up next to her.

         “Athos leave d’Artagnan alone. Now is hardly the time or the place to be doing this.”

         “Ah yes protecting your lover. How polite of you.” D’Artagnan reached out and slapped him. All activity in the courtyard below stopped. She pulled away from Aramis and stomped down the stairs. A few of the men tried to approach her, but her glare sent the scurrying away. Aramis glared at Athos.

         “Say that again and I will shoot you. You speak out of jealousy when you could have had her. She came to you and you turned her down. Why shouldn’t Porthos and I have her and give her the affection you refused her?” He followed d’Artagnan down to the courtyard. Athos stayed up top for a minute, rubbing his cheek, then followed.

 

* * *

 

 

         They entered the rundown but still noble house together. Aramis stayed between d’Artagnan and Athos. D’Artagnan stayed further back, not wanting anything to do with Athos. The man inside was gripping his crucifix like he was drowning and it was his lifeline. When they gave him the pocket watch he collapsed in on himself then straightened and held himself steady.

         “My son. My god, what has he done?”

         “It's not what he’s done sir.” D’Artagnan took the lead as Athos was being silent and Aramis was watching Athos.

         “Is he injured?”

         “Dead.” D’Artagnan nearly slapped Athos again for how blunt he was being.

         “How?”

         “He was shot.” It was Aramis who answered this time. “A musketeer stands accused of his murder we believe him innocent.”

         “Can you think of any reason someone would kill your son? Any grudge or argument?”

         “My son was a man of conscience and he had no enemies.”

         “May we see your son’s rooms?”

         “He did not live here. He took lodgings on Rue Calbert a few months ago.”

         “If you think of anything at all please let us know.” Athos walked out. The other two followed him. They searched the son’s rooms only to be attacked by a man in the mask that they could only assume was part of the court of miracles. Instead of taking chase they continued to search. They discovered that the son was secretly buying gunpowder and that the family had a hatred of the protestant faith. They went to talk to the preacher about the possible attack on his people.

         The preacher was a far better source of information that Treville’s history lesson. Despite the religious argument, he and Aramis got into he was very open with information. Even more so when the two of them bonded over soldiering. The preacher told them that the family was protestant until they changed to catholic and that the change had been to please the king.

         It was Athos who went to see the father again about the gunpowder. The father claimed that the protestant church was the cause and that it had radicalized his son. He told Athos that he had begged his son to break with that particular church if not with the religion altogether.

 

* * *

 

 

         Porthos was drinking with Charon when it happened. Part of the memory from the night before came back. He saw the boy that they told him he murdered in an argument with someone. He couldn’t tell who it was. He agreed with Flea, however. If he had killed the boy he would remember it. He had just settled back into his chair when the assassin came into the room. He threw himself across Charon, dragging him down. The ball only hit his friend’s shoulder instead of somewhere else. They brought him to his room. Flea came in while Porthos was heating the knife.

         “Now don’t worry. I’m an old hand at this.” He shoved the knife into the wound fishing out the ball. Flea settled by Charon’s side and took his hand. Porthos cleaned the wound after he finished cauterizing it and bandaged it.

         “Suppose you’re right and this shot was intended for me. Who’d go to all the trouble?”

         “The cardinal,” Charon spoke through clenched teeth, “His guards can’t reach you in here so he sends a trained killer.”

         “A shooting in some low dive in the worst part of Paris. It doesn’t add up.” Flea left. After making sure that the wound had stopped bleeding, Porthos followed her. He found her in the hallway outside.

         “Why did you abandon us Porthos?”

         “I wanted more. Why didn’t you come with me?”

         “I always felt right here. I belong. It wasn’t like that for you. I saw that. So I let you go because I loved you.”

         “Me? You chose Charon.”

         “He feels the same way I do about this place and I admire him for that.”

         “Admire? I thought you loved him?”

         “One thing I’d forgotten. What an idiot you are.” She kissed him, pulling his face down to hers. He kissed back hungrily. She pulled away with a grin. “That girl of yours…”

         “Is my lover in every sense except physical. We haven’t had a chance yet. However she pines after our lovely leader…”

         “The one that attempted to sneak in looking for you?”

         “That’s the one. She pines for him and we have a very open relationship.” Flea took his hand and led him off to her sleeping alcove.

 

         When Flea left he fell back asleep. In his dreams, he remembered walking out of the tavern and into the street. Someone was crouching over a body. Jerking awake he got dressed and went running for Charon. As he was searching he found the gunpowder barrels. When he found Charon he found him with Flea. The two of them followed him to the gunpowder barrels. He told them about how he remembered seeing the old man that had killed the boy then turned his attention to the barrels.

         “Let’s cut the fuses and make the gun powder safe.” He and Flea knelt down. The priming of a pistol made him stop.

         “Step away.” The two got up slowly.

         “Charon?” Flea looked at him wearily.

         “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time Porthos. Why did you have to go back to the Wren? The old man he argued with his son. He shot him. And there you were. A perfect scapegoat.”

         “So why save me from the noose?”

         “We ran these streets together. So much changes, everything becomes complicated and compromised, but not that. Not brotherhood. Loyalty. No. I couldn’t leave you to hang.”

         “But,” Flea spoke up “what does the gunpowder have to do with any of this?”

         “The old man bought up all the land here. He paid me to smuggle it in. There’s more after the job’s done. A lot more.” Flea started crying.

         “You were going to blow this place up?” Porthos walked towards Charon.

         “I deserve better than this Flea. I just need a bit of money. A fair chance like everyone else.”

         “But this is our home.”

         “I’m sick of it. The dirt. The disease. The poverty. Human beings rooting in filth like animals.”

         “THEY’RE POOR THAT’S ALL!”

         “THIS COURT IS FINISHED!” Charon leveled the gun at Flea. “The people here were doomed. I don’t want to leave you here Flea. Come with me.”

         “If you love me, don’t do this.”

         “Last chance.” The gun moved to Porthos. “Him or me.”

         “That’s just not a choice.”

         “You always loved him. I was just all that was left.”

         “No.” Flea grabbed the pistol. It went off pointed at her chest. Porthos tried to pull her away. He dropped to his knees next to her. Charon ran. Flea looked up at Porthos. “Go. Go. I’ll be fine.” Porthos raced after Charon.

         “CHARON!”

 

* * *

 

 

         Athos, d’Artagnan, and Aramis stalked through the quiet entrance to the court of miracles. Unlike the last time, no one was in sight. D’Artagnan looked up, half worried that someone was going to fall on them from above. They heard a shot ring out and screams. Looking at each other, they all checked their weapons and continued into the court. The shots and screams continued.

         The three of them found the men and began to fight them. D’Artagnan took aim and shot. She hit her target and he went down. Aramis shot as well. The could hear shouts from the men ordering others to guard the gunpowder. Aramis and d’Artagnan ran into the open. Atos followed after them. Aramis stopped and pulled his second gun, breathing slowly. He took aim and shot the man climbing a ladder. D’Artagnan rushed by the man. Aramis stopped on his way by and kneeled.”

         “Where is Porthos?” When the man didn’t answer Aramis shook him. “WHERE IS HE?!” He pushed the man and took his gun. He ran after the others.

         D’Artagnan grabbed one of the men on the stairs and threw herself on him. He fell and she landed on top of him. Rolling off, she drew her sword as he drew his. She parried and began striking hard, forcing the man back. She threw him off balance and shoved her sword through him. Pulling it out she continued on.

         Athos followed the man with the torch knowing he would lead him to the gunpowder. As the man approached the woman struggling to sit up, Athos decided to draw his attention.

         “Hey.” The man spun around and started attacking with his torch. Athos blocked him and made sure that when he moved the man and him swapped positions. Athos now had his back to the gunpowder and the man would have to get through him first. He slammed the man back into a wall with his back and pulled his dagger. The woman had tucked herself into an alcove and was looking around frantically. He drove the dagger down, grabbing and pulling free the torch at the same time. The man fell. He quickly doused the torch and went to the woman’s side.

         “Porthos followed Charon towards the main chamber.” When Athos tried to help her she pushed him away. “I’ll be fine. Save Porthos.” Athos left her alone and ran. Aramis and d’Artagnan joined him.

 

* * *

 

 

         Porthos found Charon in the main room and slowly walked in.

         “Welcome to my empire of dust. But Flea loves this place. I never understood it.”

         “You should have come with me all those years ago Charon.” The man spun around a knife in his hand.

         “I WANTED FLEA! I thought with you being gone that she’d be mine. She never was. Not really.”

         “I don’t want to fight you, Charon. Leave now. I won’t come looking.” Charon attacked him swiping the knife across his chest. Porthos dodged back and caught the descending arm. He held it above their head as they spun. Charon used his free hand to hit Porthos’ elbow causing the arm holding the knife to collapse. He pulled the hand away and tried a lunge. Porthos dodged and whipped around, pulling his cloak off. He threw it to the side and approached Charon. They circled each other and Charon grabbed a glass throwing it. Porthos dodged the glass and caught the descending arm again. This time his punched Charon, hard. The other man fell to the floor and instantly got up swiping at Porthos’ knees. Porthos jumped back. Using his training to his advantage, Porthos caught the next strike aimed at his head and disarmed Charon. He punched him hard and managed to get him on the ground. He held the knife to Charon’s throat then pulled away and threw the knife to the ground.

         “I’m not like you Charon. That’s why I left. I’m a musketeer.” He turned and started to leave. He heard shouts of his name. When he brushed through the fabric covering the doorway Charon charged him. Aramis shoved him out of the way and thrust his sword through Charon. As Aramis drew his sword out Porthos caught him and lowered him to the ground.

         “I told you Porthos. I told you I was getting out.” Charon was choking on blood as he was speaking. When he died Porthos looked over his shoulder at Aramis who looked down.

 

* * *

 

 

         The three of them came to collect Porthos once his name had been cleared. The father had been the one to plot the entire thing and had killed his son when he had refused to go along with it. The man had committed suicide, but not before giving Treville a signed and sealed confession.

         Porthos walked out of the court of miracles dressed as a musketeer, with Flea by his side. D’Artagnan felt a twinge of jealousy but stifled it. The two stopped just out of earshot.

         “Are you all right?”

         “I’ll survive.”

         “Charon, um, he didn’t want to kill you.” Porthos turned to face her. “He loved you.” She smiled sadly.

         “What now?”

         “You could come with me.”

         “You could stay here.” When he shifted uncomfortably the smile fell from her face. “We live in different worlds you and me. I belong with my friends and you with yours.” Porthos looked up to see the three of them waiting with his horse.

         “You know it's doomed this place. It's only a matter of time before the cardinal gets around to destroying your world.”

         “And that’s not true of yours? If he were to find out about d’Artagnan or about you and Aramis’ relationship wouldn’t your world be doomed as well?” He nodded slightly. “Let’s just enjoy what we have well we have it.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. D’Artagnan watching shifted slightly. Aramis rested a hand on her arm. Athos growled slightly and d’Artagnan glared at him. Porthos pulled away from the kiss and ran a hand over Flea’s cheek.

         “Will you help d’Artagnan? She needs the expertise that you have with your various skin colorings and other makeup.”

         “I will. She deserves a chance in your world that being a woman won’t grant her. I’ll come by your rooms in two days, after dark. Send me word by way of a beggar if that won’t work.” She looked up into his face again. “Goodbye, Porthos.” She turned and walked away.

         “Maybe I’ll come walk amongst the beggars and whores sometime.”

         “Then you’d better watch your purse.” She held it up, swinging it between two fingers. He felt his pocket.

         “She’s good.” He turned and walked to his companions. When he arrived he looked up at them. “You took your damn time getting here.”

         “We would never let you hang.” Porthos shook his head. Only Athos could be that straight forward.

         “Of course not. And if we had the funeral would have beautiful.”

         “We came looking,” Athos built off of Aramis’ comment, “Charon said you were having such a good time you didn’t want to see us.”

         “Be honest. Did any of you think I did it?” The other two looked at d’Artagnan.

         “Never even crossed my mind.”

         “Did you ever think we’d abandoned you?” Aramis smiled slightly at d’Artagnan’s answer. Porthos shook his head.

         “Never.” He gestured with his head when he mounted his horse. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

 

         Two days later Flea snuck into Porthos’ rooms through an open window. He was sitting at the table writing something. D’Artagnan was next to him half asleep, her head in danger of falling off the hand she was using to hold it up. Porthos looked up at Flea’s chuckle.

         “You guys either need to stop working her so hard or stop keeping her up so late at night.” D’Artagnan waved a hand in Flea’s direction in greeting. Porthos relaxed, the knife he had been holding slid back into its sheath.

         “Athos managed to corner me this morning and spent an hour trying to whack me with his sword.”

         “So I heard.” Flea put the things she had brought with her on the table. She walked d’Artagnan through the applying of the powders. Aramis came in sometime in the middle and sat next to d’Artagnan, interested. When Porthos looked over he had to look again. D’Artagnan’s cheekbones were sharper and her face was more angled and held less of the feminine softness than it had the last time he had looked. Flea was teaching her how to achieve the look of barely-there stubble using a course sponge. Aramis was staring in awe.

         “What if we’re on the road?” Porthos was trying to ignore how attractive d’Artagnan looked as a male.

         “If she’s with you three she can use the powder. Otherwise, dirt will work well enough. She looks young enough that no one will question her if she has no beard after a few days. They’ll just assume she’s in that awkward grow one or two hairs stage.”

         “And when I get older?”

         “Keep shaving gear in your bag. Just a small kit. That way no one will question it. I doubt Porthos will let you work with anyone, but himself, Aramis, and Athos but its better to be safe than sorry.”

         “If I wear this tomorrow someone will notice.”

         “It should wash off easily enough with water. If its stubborn take a bit of fabric dipped in oil to it. Build it up to this level over the next few weeks. If Athos keeps up with the long training sessions it won’t come to anyone as a big surprised that you slimmed down.” Flea got up and pressed a kiss to d’Artagnan’s forehead. “If you need a place of refuge from Athos however, come to the court of miracles. I’ll make sure my people know that you aren’t to be messed with and that if you show up they are to keep Athos out.” D’Artagnan looked up at her in shock. Porthos took Flea’s wrist and kissed her palm.

         “Flea thank you for teaching her.” Flea headed towards the window when Porthos let her go.

         “Why are you helping me?” Flea turned around and d’Artagnan continued. “I know you and Porthos were close. You had just found him again and we took him away from you.”

         “Porthos made his choice years ago. I should be thanking you for bringing him back into my life. As for helping you well,” She shrugged, “I just want to see you get the chance you deserve. The whole thing about women being unable to fight is complete and utter lies. Some of the court’s best guards and fighters are female.” She smiled and pulled her mask down over her face. She slipped out of the window as d’Artagnan thought about her answer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays one and all! Thanks for reading my work. I hope the new years brings you all good things.

             Flea had been right about Athos pushing d’Artagnan hard. She had always been lean and thin, but his intense training, both in the garrison and out on missions managed to strip every little bit of fat from her body. The fat that had been present was replaced with muscle. Aramis was more than appreciative in bed. He loved to trail his fingers along the lines of her muscles. That was as far as it went, however. He and Porthos didn’t actually have sex with her. She had snuck off to see Flea once to ask about it and Flea had laughed until she cried. D’Artagnan smiled as she remembered.

_“You are blind if you can’t see it. From what my people have told me, Aramis hasn’t taken a single mistress or visited a brothel or even looked at a prostitute since he and Porthos invited you to their bed. Many of my ladies have been complaining about it. Same with Porthos for that matter. The last sexual encounter he had with a woman was with me when he was here. As for men, neither of them have been with anyone but themselves. Normally they include Athos sometimes but even he hasn’t graced their rooms. The two of them are head over heels for you. It’s the only explanation.” Flea laughed some more and finally stopped when she started coughing. D’Artagnan bit her lip slightly then blurted out her question._

_“How would I go about not getting pregnant?” Flea’s eyes softened and she brushed the hair out of d’Artagnan’s eyes._

_“Did your mother never teach you?”_

_“My mother died at my birth. All I had was my father and he wanted to keep me as innocent and pure as possible in regards to those things.”_

_“But you know about sex right?”_

_“I know it from the man’s side. The other musketeers brag about their conquests.”_

_“Well, I trust Aramis to be safe. He knows it's your life on the line if you fall pregnant. Have one of them insert a small piece of sponge dipped in vinegar. Also, the two of them must use condoms, no don’t ask I won’t explain it. Aramis should know where to obtain some. These two things will greatly cut down on the chance of you falling pregnant. As for sex itself, with the right person, it can be amazing.” Flea had continued on._

             D’Artagnan dodged the knife thrown at her head and glared at Athos. She pulled it free and looked it over.

             “This isn’t one of yours.” She fingered the blade. Her own knife was starting to fall out of its handle and it could barely hold an edge. She desperately needed a new one but didn’t have the money to buy one.

             “No, it is not. It’s yours.” He moved off before she could say anything. Aramis came up behind her and took the knife.

             “This is good craftsmanship.” He pulled her own knife from her its sheath on her hip and slid the new one in. “Even Sarge couldn’t use this to cook with. Take the gift. You desperately need it.”

             “I thought we weren’t happy with him still.”

             “We aren’t but he’s making an effort.”

             More gifts showed up over the next few weeks. She opened her wardrobe one morning to find new shirts inside after she had brought one of her old ones to fix one night when they were on night duty. The other musketeers had laughed at her ability to sew until she reminded them that she didn’t have to pay anyone to mend her clothes. A few of the men had approached her about her possibly doing their mending for them after that. She had agreed for a fee and charged them much less than a seamstress would have. She kept the new shirts for when she was on court duty with Aramis, Athos, and Porthos.

             Her bedroll and camping gear had also been replaced she discovered while she was on a mission. When she unrolled the bedroll the first night she found new blankets instead of her tattered ones. That night, and all subsequent nights, she slept warm. When she woke to light rain the next morning she discovered an oilcloth cloak draped over her to keep off the wet. The next morning she caught Athos throwing her old battered and split wooden bowl and eating utensils in the fire. When she opened her mouth to yell at him he simply pointed at a rock where a new set was sitting, filled with her breakfast. The final morning of their mission she woke to find Athos placing her breakfast next to her. Sprinkled onto the weak porridge was apple pieces. When Athos retreated to the fire she saw Aramis shove him slightly.

             “Do you know how hard it will be to court her properly now? Woe is the man who tries. You’ve spoiled her for them by taking care of her every need.”

             “Treville simply told me to make sure she was outfitted with all the gear she needed to be a musketeer.”

             “Right so it was Treville who bought the apples off the farmer yesterday when he thought we weren’t looking.”

             “She doesn’t eat enough. I thought we agreed on that.” D’Artagnan picked up a pebble and lobbed it at Aramis before he could answer Athos.

             “Just for that, you can’t come steal any of my apple pieces. Leave Athos alone. I did need the new gear.” She thought she saw Athos smile at her defense and looked at him in shock. He caught her looking at him and raised his eyebrow in his normal annoyed way. Rain caught them on their way into Paris and they were soaked by the time they reached the garrison. As soon as their horses were cared for they reported to Treville. D’Artagnan was shaking with cold by the time they finished. On her way out of his office she sneezed and all four of them stopped and stared at her. Treville grumbled something about not needing sick musketeers and sent them all home early. She had laid out her bedroll to dry and changed into dry clothes when Athos knocked on her door and slid inside.

             “We are going to go drag Aramis and Porthos out of their rooms and there will be no argument from you or them. You are chilled to the bone and need something warm to eat. Aramis and Porthos are in the same condition as you. I can’t have any of you getting sick.”

             “And you came to me first because you know that if I agree to this plan they will follow along without argument.” She glanced down at her chest and decided that her shirt covered the worst of it and that she really didn’t want to put on her soaked leather doublet. Grabbing her new cloak, she followed him out.

 

* * *

 

             “So why do you think the cardinal is so interested in this baby?” D’Artagnan and Aramis had been sent on a retrieval mission less than a day’s ride from Paris.

             “All I know is that it's our job to collect the infant and his mother and take them back to Paris. That’s it.”

             “You’re not curious?” d’Artagnan raised her waterskin, another gift from Athos, to her lips and took a small sip.

             “Not in the least.”

             “And this priest, DuVal, what does he have to do with it all?”

             “Probably paid to look after them. One thing you need to learn d’Artagnan, don’t get involved.” The two of them rode up to the small church. D’Artagnan entered it to find the priest they were looking for bleeding all over letters and papers that had been thrown onto the ground. She yelled for Aramis as she dropped to her knees next to the priest. She felt for a pulse and listened for breaths but didn’t hear or feel anything.

             “I think we’ve found him.” The two heard screams and ran outside. A  man was holding a woman. Aramis jumped over a small wall and shot the man in the head. D’Artagnan focused on the two men riding away. She raised her pistol for a shot and had it shot out of her hand. Aramis caught the woman before she could chase after them. D’Artagnan ran to her horse and took off after them. When it became clear that she was not going to be able to catch up to them. Aramis was standing outside the church waiting for her.

             “Follow them as closely as you can. My guess is they’re headed to Paris. I’ll try and find out what’s going on.”

             “This was no ordinary kidnapping was it?” Aramis shook his head slightly. D’Artagnan turned her horse. “Meet me at Constance’s house.” She rode off Aramis turned only to have the woman he had saved put a dagger to his throat.

             “I swear I’ll kill you. Who are you?”

             “My name is Aramis of the king’s musketeers.” He tipped his hat and backed away slowly. She followed him the knife never moving. “ I have been sent to escort you and your son to the palace.”

             “Why?”

             “I was hoping you might tell me. How can I put this discreetly? Perhaps you went to a ball somewhere, had a chance encounter with a charming and persuasive young man, one thing lead to another and nine months later little Henry comes along.”

             “What kind of woman do you think I am?” Aramis bent backward slightly to dodge the small thrust she made.

             “I really have no idea.”

             “I am faithful to my husband, Phillipe Benard.” She thrust again and Aramis disarmed her.

             “If this Phillipe is truly the baby’s father where is he now?” Aramis threw the dagger over his shoulder. He followed her gaze to the relatively newly dug grave. “I’m sorry. That was tactless.” She brushed past him, heading towards the church.

             “Just leave me alone.”

             “Don’t go in there.” She turned at his order. He shook his head. “Don’t go in there.”

 

* * *

 

             Porthos and Athos were on a hunt with the king. They galloped through the woods as the dogs and the falcons attempted to catch game for the king to kill. As they rode into the open clearing servants began to scurry, pouring wine and gathering platters to serve. Servants set the table as the queen and her small court chatted in the shade.

             “The thrill of the chase captain. It is close to divine.” Treville nodded and rode after him. Athos turned his horse and scanned the horizon looking completely bored with the guard detail. Spotting a small party of riders heading towards him he pulled out his spyglass.

             “Captain!” Treville turned from where he was sitting on his horse. Athos rode over and handed him the spyglass as Porthos pulled out one of his guns. The guards of the party stayed away as two figures rode towards them.

             “It can’t be. Guards protect the king.” Porthos threw himself off his horse and grabbed the king. The cardinal escorted the queen into the tent. Porthos shoved the king in after her. The guards formed a protective barricade between the tent entrance and the riders. Athos stood with the guards as Porthos stood with Treville. The men shifted as the riders skirted around them Athos stepped up next to Treville.

             “I demand to see the king.” The woman lifted her veil. In the tent, the king shifted and stood. He exited the tent slowly. “My beloved son.”

             “I ordered you never to come back.”

             “Where else should I turn when I am in grave danger?” The king shoved past the guards. Treville moved slightly so that he would be in front of the king.

             “I banished you for life on pain of execution. You tried to steal my throne. Now I’m obliged to cut off your head and place it on a spike for all Paris to ogle.”

             “Come inside sire. Leave this to the cardinal and Captain Treville.” The queen had stepped outside the tent as well. The king’s mother tried to run towards him but was stopped by Treville and Porthos. She dropped to her knees.

             “Please, I beg of you. On my knees. In the name of the love you once bore me.”

             “I did love you. And you betrayed me.” The cardinal stepped forward to try to convince the king to return to the tent. Porthos and Treville pulled the king’s mother to her feet when the king turned.

             “Abandon me now and I’ll die. Someone is trying to kill me. Please.” They pushed her into the grip of the single body guard that had ridden forward to her. The king was furious. Athos and Porthos, stationed near the tent, could hear him talking to Treville and the cardinal. They were more focused on the words of her guard. The two of the stood stoically silent while he chided them on chivalry.

             “But on the bright side, you aren’t dead yet.” Porthos was aware of Athos’ approving glance and a small smirk, things that were hidden to the guard.

             “You think I’m frightened of the king’s toy soldiers?” Athos was content to let Porthos handle it. The man had a way with words that infuriated anyone he used it on.

             “For a glorified boot boy, you’ve got an awful lot to say.” The man reached for his sword. Instantly every guard had their weapons pointed in his direction. Athos decided it was time to step in.

             “Draw if you wish. It will be our duty to kill you and, incidentally, our pleasure.” Athos smirked slightly under his hat. At the queen mother’s words of calming the man removed his hand from his sword. All the guards relaxed. The cardinal walked out of the tent.

             “The king is occupied with pressing state business. He cannot see you.”

             “Her gracious majesty has only survived one attack by God’s grace. We are too few to survive another attempt.”

             “His majesty’s decision is final.”

 

* * *

 

             They had been escorting the queen mother home when they had been ambushed. One of the men had been killed with by a musket ball. The other man had his throat slit by the overeager personal guard. Athos looked about ready to kill the man himself when Treville stepped in. They rode for the palace at once. As they were ushered into the king and queen’s presence it was silent. The queen glanced at her husband.

             “Go to her.” He moved slowly as though she would stab him if he got to close. Athos supposed that after everything she had done the king believed that she would. The king stopped short of his mother.

             “Are you harmed?”

             “Only a little shaken.” The king turned his attention to the personal guard.

             “And you killed these renegades?”

             “I did your majesty.”

             “Captain?” The king turned towards Treville.

             “I have musketeers searching for the assailants your majesty. They will be brought to justice.”

             “I NEARLY LOST MY MOTHER!”

             “God has seen to it that I shall not go to the grave without my son’s love.” The king glared at his mother. “He has sent me this chance to atone for my sins.” Treville and the cardinal shared a look of utmost disbelief. “I am so sorry. I beg your forgiveness with all of my heart.” The king ran out fo the room.  Queen Anne stepped forward.

 

* * *

 

             “If you were Marie de Medici’s personal guard wouldn’t you want to ask questions.”

             “Vincent was out of control.”

             “A good soldier is never out of control. And he’s one of the best.”

             “The had the weaponry of a small army.” Porthos turned towards Athos. “Yet not one shot found its mark.”

             “Not a scratch on any of us.”

             “And wouldn’t you expect to see at least some damage to the trees? Or the odd piece of splintered bark? There’s just nothing.”

             “I don’t see any used wadding.”

             “No spent musket balls.” The two returned to the summer palace.

             “Captain there were eight shots, no damage and not a single injury to anyone.”

             “The gunshots were nothing more than a fireworks display.” Athos fell in step with Porthos and Treville as he spoke

             “You’re certain?”

             “Either that or they were the worst assassins ever.”

             “The last time I went up against Marie de Medici she threw me in prison. I’d rather not go back. If this ambush was staged I need to know why.”

             “Vincent could have captured the gunmen. They would have talked sooner or later.”

             “He wanted to be sure they didn’t.”

             “Keep watch on him. And Marie if you can. Either he’s manipulating her or they’re in it together. Either way. We need to know what the end game is.”

 

* * *

 

             They brought the woman to Constance’s house. She sat in front of the fire clutching the blanket. Constance lit the candles to bring the room more light.

             “I can’t begin to imagine what you are going through.” She turned as Aramis came into the room. “Anything?” He shook his head. “I’ll go and join d’Artagnan.” She leaned in as she passed. “Try to make her eat something.” When Constance left he sat next to the woman.

             “I don’t want to have to fight you again.”

             “Being apart from him. It's like a wound that won’t heal.”

             “He’s your flesh and blood.”

             “Do you have a family?” Athos straightened and looked down. Porthos sprung to mind, gentle and caring despite his size and his job. Athos, ever melancholy and never speaking yet making sure that d’Artagnan was warm, dry, fed, and clothed before she ever knew that she needed the help. D’Artagnan herself following them around like a little lost puppy yet able to take down men twice her size.

             “Not unless you count the musketeers.”

             “No wife?”

             “Something always gets in the way.” He dipped a spoon into the soup and lifted some into his mouth in an attempt to hide his musings on his chosen family

             “Have you ever felt it? Love. I mean real, true love. That need that leaves you incapable of existing without the other person.”

             “I met a young woman. But she chose another life.” He thought of d’Artagnan choosing to hide who she really was to get the life she wanted. The life she deserved. He knew that he couldn’t jeopardize that.

             “What life?”

             “If I answer will you tell me why those people on the road ran from you?”

             “Its nobody’s business.”

             “If you don’t trust me how can I help you?”

             “There’s only one man I’ve ever trusted.” She looked down. “My husband, Phillipe, was like a helpless child when I first met him. He’d been locked away so long he’d never learned to fend for himself. He didn’t look like other men. He was malformed from birth. Touched by the devil they said. I was sent to be his nurse. I was petrified. I believed everything I’d heard. He had the kindest heart I’d ever known. He was shy and confused. Frightened. But full of innocent love and goodness.”

             “What of his family?”

             “They abandoned him at birth. His mother came to visit once. In secret, because she was ashamed. I was lonely and he was kind. I soon learned to see the beauty of soul and I fell in love with him. We married in secret. Father DuVal had kept him out of sight for most of his life and when Henry was born everything changed. Phillipe felt alive. He refused to hide any longer. We walked through the village together as a family.”

             “That must have been a fine moment.”

             “They beat him. Until his bones shattered. Burned him while he still breathed life.”

             "You saw this? You were there?”

             “They made me watch.” She looked down. “He’s still with me. In here.” She touched her heart. “And in Henry.”

             “I promise you, on my honor, the safe return of your child.” She looked up at him with eyes filled with tears.

             “What about your love?”

             “She was born and raised differently than other girls. Her mother died young and her father taught her to protect herself. She knows how to shoot, how to fight with a sword and dagger, how to fight with her hands. Her father died and she faced a tough choice. The lord wanted her for a bed warmer. None of the villagers would protect her from it. I met her when she made her way to Paris. She is remarkable and full of life. She can be serious at the right times, however. She does her job without complaint and always can cheer us up when we’re upset.”

             “She sounds wonderful. You said she chose a different life. Did she marry above her station? Did she become a mistress for a wealthy man?”

             “She cut her hair and changed her name and became a soldier. She said becoming a man was the only way she could be free of the pressure to marry, to have children. It was a way to escape being a master’s toy. I still see her sometimes and every time I do I see the woman she could have become if she didn’t choose to hide who she was to escape the life she left behind.”

 

* * *

 

             Constance joined d’Artagnan near the warehouse she had followed the men to. It was near dark and very few people were around. They hid in a dark recess in the wall and relaxed, keeping an eye on the door.

             “What are we looking for again?” Constance was quiet as she spoke.

             “A way in. A way out. Which room the baby’s in. Anything that helps really.”

             “I can fight.”

             “You’re not going in there.”

             “Because you don’t trust me.”

             “Because I couldn’t forgive myself if you were harmed. You’re one of the few people who truly knows me, Constance. Who knows my secret.” They lapsed into quiet as they watched the guard.

             “Did you see the look on that miss’ face when she spoke about Henry?” Constance shook her head slightly. “That bond. To value something over your own life. I want to know love that strong.”

             “You’ll have children of your own soon enough.”

             “I suppose. If its meant to be.” They watched as a woman knocked on the door and the guards opened it.

             “Who are they?”

             “Wet nurses. How do you think the baby’s been feeding?” D’Artagnan looked at her and she looked back at him. “What?” At her nod, she sighed. “No. No.”

             “Yes.”

             “You do it. I can’t.”

             “My hair is too short and I look like a guy. Why not?”

             “How can I be a wet nurse if I haven’t got any milk?”

             “You’ll improvise.”

 

* * *

 

             The next day the four of them, the mother, d’Artagnan, Aramis, and Constance, walked towards the building.

             “Remember we need to know what room the baby’s in.” Aramis was planning for the attack and rescue.

             He likes music. If he cries sing him a lullaby.”

             “Will humming do? My singing might frighten him.”

             “Then give him this. Tell him I love him.” The blanket was pushed into Constance’s hands and the mother dropped back with Aramis.

             “I thought you weren’t going to let me in there.”

             “I wasn’t. But that was before I had a brilliant plan.”

             “Why you couldn’t do again why?”

             “I have short hair. Be careful.”

             “Thanks for the tip. I’ll bear it in mind.” Constance started off on her own. She knocked on the door and was careful not to draw back to much when the door opened and a gun was shoved in her face.

             “Who are you then?”

             “The wet nurse.” The gun was lowered.

             “Come in.” As they went upstairs she could feel him staring. “What happened to the other girl?”

             “She sick.”

             “Good. You’ve got a nicer backside.” He slapped her butt. She took a steadying breath and followed him. As she passed him he grabbed her around the waist. She let out a little chuckle.

             “She told me you were quite the charmer. Now hands off. I’ve got work to do.” She went into the baby’s room. At the other wet nurse’s expression, she pulled a face. “I’m new.”

             “This is baby Henry. He’s just been fed and changed.” The other wet nurse left. Constance smiled at the baby.

             “I’ve brought you a message from someone who loves you very much.” She went to the blanket and waved it out the window as if she were shaking it out.

 

* * *

 

             Porthos and Athos followed the queen mother from the palace. The ended up in the dying district of all places. Porthos spun when he heard a familiar voice.

             “What in God’s name is she doing here.”

             “I know that woman." A woman spoke from next to Aramis.

             “This can’t be a coincidence.” Porthos moved behind Aramis to stay out of their line of sight.

             “Was that who I think it was?” Aramis didn’t even bother to look at Porthos.

             “Marie de Medici. We followed her here from the palace.”

             “Don’t be ridiculous.” The baby’s mother looked at them like they were crazy. “That’s just Phillipe’s mother.”

             “Are you certain that’s the woman who came to visit your husband?”

             “Yes.” D’Artagnan began to breath heavier.

             “Constance is in there on her own.” They watched for long minutes until Marie de Medici came out, without the baby.

             “They haven’t taken him.” Aramis lowered his musket that he had raised the moment the door opened. The four of them moved into action. Athos knocked on the door but stayed below the eye slot. When the guard didn’t see anyone he opened the door. Porthos grabbed him and knocked him out as Athos slammed the door shut. A moment later he slammed it open again banging the man who was behind it into the wall. The four of the stormed in. Porthos went to check for guards downstairs while the other three went up. D’Artagnan and Athos engaged the guards playing cards at the top of the stairs. Aramis went straight for Constance and the baby. He came charging into the room to see Constance with her corset half undone.

             “Don’t musketeers ever knock?”

             “Sorry, we’re a little pushed for time.” When she didn’t move fast enough he glared. “Constance.”

             “Take him.” Aramis took the baby and Constance did up her corset quickly.

             “Hello. So you’re the one all this fuss if about.” When they baby started crying he looked around in panic. “He’s crying.”

             “Sing. He likes that.” Aramis started singing and the baby quieted.

             “It’s a gift.” He kept singing.

             “There was a woman here.”

             “I know.”

             “It was...”

             “Oh, I know.”

             “She said...”

             “The grandson. I know.”

             “Is there anything you don’t know?”

             “Believing it is the hard part.”

             “The baby. Now.” The first guard she had encountered entered the room his sword drawn. Constance didn’t think. She grabbed Aramis’ sword off the bed ignoring his insistence that she take the baby. She started to fight the guard, at least to hold him off until the others could get there. She ended up getting thrown back into Aramis.

             “Have you got this?”

             “Absolutely.” She moved and blocked his swing striking low at his leg. She disarmed him and sent him flying into a table.

             “Good work. Where did you learn to do that?”

             “D’Artagnan. What are you waiting for?” He rushed out. She grabbed her cloak and followed. She ran into d’Artagnan in the hallway.

             “Don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?” She punched her friend hard in the ribs and went running after Aramis.

 

* * *

 

             The four of them were called to the garrison to see Treville. It was Aramis who spoke up first.

             “So what do we do now?”

             “The boy goes to the cardinal.”

             “And what then?”

             “Is the child ready?”

             “Hasn’t the woman suffered enough?”

             “Absolutely. She’s been with Aramis for two days.” Aramis tried not to glare at Porthos. He wasn’t about to let the baby and mother be separated.

             “You know what will happen. The boy will disappear. He will be murdered. And Agnes too probably.” Treville turned to look at him outside his office.

             “I’m sorry my hands are tied. You have to take him to the cardinal. I’d go with you myself, but I’m busy. Damn paperwork. It will take me the rest of the afternoon. At least.” He nodded slightly at Aramis and went inside. Aramis heard the message loud and clear. Get Henry and Agnes to safety. Aramis went into his rooms. When his friends weren’t looking he snuck out. He found Agnes and escorted her to transportation out of the country.

             “You leave in an hour.” When she complained he told her of the things that would befall them if they went home. About the cardinal and Marie de Medici. That at best she would die and he would be raised by another and that at worst they would both die.

 

 

             Athos finished his discussion with the other two and headed towards the window that opened into Aramis rooms.

             “Aramis?” When Athos saw no sign of him he sighed. “He’s gone.”

             “Right. What are we going to do?” Porthos was not surprised by his friend’s disappearance.

             “Find him. Before he gets himself killed.” They headed out. Porthos led them to a small encampment.

             “This is the place to come if you’re looking for quick passage out of the country. Let’s split up shall we?” The three went their separate ways looking for Aramis and Agnes. D’Artagnan spotted Aramis behind a wagon of barrels.

             “Porthos.” She inclined her head towards Aramis then started for him. The three of them came around the side of the wagon. “Good afternoon.”

             “Excuse us, madam.” Athos tipped his hat at her slightly.

             “I won’t come back.”

             “I’m not handing them over to the cardinal.”

             “Aramis that baby’s the heir to the throne.” D’Artagnan was annoyed with her lover.

             “They could charge you with treason.” Porthos was just as annoyed as d’Artagnan was.

             “I made her a promise.”

             “Then we’d better help you.” Athos made the decision for the team. None of them wanted the baby to die.

             “You didn’t really think that we were going to take that baby did you?” Porthos grinned.

             “If you had told us what you were doing we might have been able to plan this properly.”

             “Yes sorry.”

             “No. No. Let’s keep it suicidal.” Athos turned to watch the surrounding area. D’Artagnan slid in next to Aramis.

             “Don’t get involved. That’s what you said. How’s that working out for you?” It was Porthos who spotted the guards coming towards them.

             “Things just got complicated. Vincent.” They hid and watched as his men closed off the bridge. The four confered. Aramis broke off once they were done.

             “I want you to head across the bridge and wait for me. Leave Henry with me.”

             “Aramis.”

             “If we walk out there together they’ll be on to us in seconds. I will get Henry across the bridge.” They watched as she made her way slowly across without notice. They also watched as the person Aramis had talked to about travel point the guards in their direction.

             “Next time I bribe someone, remind me to bring more money.”

             “So how should we do this.” D’Artagnan watched Athos pull the plug out of on of the barrels and taste it.

             “These barrels contain brandy. A rather good one I believe.”

             “Athos now is not the time.” Aramis could barely contain his disgust at the apparent thought of drinking in Athos’ head. Athos shot him a disbelieving look. “Oh. I see.” D’Artagnan and Porthos grabbed two barrels.

             “What a waste.” Porthos lobbed his barrel at one of the fires. D’Artagnan handed him the other one then moved off to the side moving people out of the way. The resulting fireball and smoke caused a distraction for Aramis to charge, on horseback, to the bridge. He stopped in the middle as guards from both sides approached him. He was pulled off his horse and the child fell into the river. Aramis pulled Agnes away as she tried to climb over the bridge.

             “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?!” Vincent and his men rode off.

 

* * *

 

             The four musketeers were hidden in the staircase Treville had come from. They watched as the cardinal and Treville told Marie de Medici that her grandson was dead. They watched as Vincent was brought out in chains to confirm the tale. They came out of their hiding place when she had left.

             “Happily the plot to kill Marie de Medici had been foiled. It appears that the chief culprit was her trusted guard, Vincent. He will be dealt with accordingly. Unless any of you think that the king or France would benefit from the execution of his own mother?”

             “Good.” Treville stepped forward as the cardinal left. “Then that is all his majesty ever needs to know.” They nodded and left.

             The four of them found Agnes a bit out of Paris. Aramis rode to her while the others stayed out fo sight.

             “What more could you want from me? Why drag me here now?”

             “I know you’ve endured hell. I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer so terrible a blow. I should apologize. I should have told you the truth. But if you hadn’t been so convincing as a grieving mother they would have seen right through it. This was the only way I could see you and Henry having any sort of life together.”

             “What life?” He turned towards the four riders coming towards them. Constance had joined them as they waited for Aramis. In a sling on her chest, she carried Henry. Aramis walked to them and took the baby that Constance handed down. As they watched the reunion d’Artagnan smiled slightly.

             “You didn’t want to give him back did you?”

             “Was it that obvious?” At her friend’s look Constance sighed. “You were just as bad.”

 

* * *

 

             Aramis and d’Artagnan were alone in Porthos’ rooms when Aramis began to speak. He told her he had told Agnes her secret but didn’t mention names. She sat quietly after hearing him out.

             “D’Artagnan I didn’t mean to put your life in danger.”

             “You were trying to console a woman who’s baby had just been snatched from her arms.”

             “It still wasn’t alright. You could die if they found out. The cardinal would burn you for a witch if he or his people discovered you.”

             “He’s not going to find out.” D’Artagnan looked down at her hands. “Is this why you and Porthos won’t take me truly as a lover?” Aramis’ head shot up and he looked at her astounded. She continued to stare at her hands not making eye contact. A hand slipped under her chin and raised her head.

             “Dear one it’s not that.” Aramis gave her a light kiss. “We thought… We thought you were completely innocent to the ways of the body.”

             “I talked to Flea about it. She explained everything to me.” D’Artagnan blushed and Aramis chuckled kissing her again. He pressed her back against the bed and rolled his hips against hers slightly. She pulled away from the kiss as her breath hitched. Aramis smiled and leaned in to kiss her neck. He slid hands under her shirt and rested them on her hips. The door opened and the two of them sprang apart to see Porthos. Pothos stared at them then put the bag on the table and kicked the door closed.

             “Well, that wasn’t a sight I expected to see.” Porthos ran a hand over his face and grumbled something. D’Artagnan could tell that he was having an argument with himself in his head. She got up and walked over to him. Taking his hand, she kissed it then stretched up to kiss him on the mouth. His hands came to settle at her waist and he lifted her up. She gasped slightly as he walked her back to the bed. Dropping her on it, he pulled away.

             “Aramis explain.” Porthos glared at his lover who grinned.

             “She’s talked to Flea about things. I thought we might as well give in to her.” Aramis moved behind d’Artagnan and wrapped his arms around her waist. She tilted her head back and let him kiss her neck. His hand came up and slid to her back, under her shirt, and undid the laces of the half corset. He pulled it off and maneuvered her so that she was lying on her back. Strong hands took one of her’s and she looked at Porthos.

             “Are you sure?”

             “Porthos I am more than sure. Now if you aren’t going to give me what I want leave and let Aramis handle it.”

             “As you wish princess.” Porthos shrugged out of his shirt and she let her eyes rake over his body. He had scars, she was the only one of the group who didn’t and she didn’t doubt that she would accumulate some soon, but they were well-healed thanks to Aramis’ needlework. Aramis’ kiss pulled her out of the slight hyperventilation that was happening.

             “He’s a vision isn’t he? All hard muscle and not an ounce of fat.” Aramis pulled away and gestured for Porthos to take his place. Porthos settled himself over her, supporting his weight on his arms. She reached out and ran her hands over his arms and chest. He smiled before shifting his weight to one arm and fingered the hem of her shirt. Gripping it he pulled it up and over her head. Porthos began kissing her collarbone and moved down. He pressed kisses the mounds of her breasts before moving down to her stomach. When he reached her breaches he began to undo the laces.

             “Aramis will be your first.” Porthos slid her breaches and smallclothes over her hips and removed them completely. He opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out two small vials and a small piece of sponge. “There is a bit of a size difference between the two of us and I don’t want to hurt you. I will, however, make sure you’re all prepared for him.” He trailed fingers over her labia. She whimpered and tried to press into the fingers. He took one of the vials but didn’t unstopper it.

             “Oil.” Aramis settled next to her naked. “Its to allow us to penetrate you without hurting you if you aren’t already prepared.” He ran a hand over her breasts and she let out a little moan. A finger probed her and she pressed down slightly letting the tip enter her. Her moan grew louder.

             “It doesn’t feel like she needs it. She’s already really wet.” Porthos pressed the finger in further and stilled. “I thought you said you had never slept with someone.”

             “I ride horses and fight for a living. Flea said I could be without the barrier because of it.” D’Artagnan tried to press down on the finger and Aramis reached out to hold her hips. Porthos gently added another finger and began to stretch her. He pulled them out and reached for the sponge and the other vial. D’Artagnan scrunched up her nose at the smell of vinegar but let him insert the piece of sponge inside her. Aramis pulled something over his penis which she assumed to be the condom that Flea talked about and took Porthos spot. Porthos lay next to her and kissed her as Aramis pushed in slowly. She pulled away from him and breathed deeply as Aramis slid in. Aramis stopped when he was completely in and kissed her forehead.

             “Feel alright?”

             “It feels wonderful.” She took Porthos hand and squeezed it. Her grip went tight as Aramis began to move and moans began to fall from her mouth. After a few minutes, something inside her exploded and she felt herself drifting in waves of pleasure and warmth. When she was able to focus again she saw that Porthos had wrapped a hand around Aramis’ and his penises and was jerking them off together. Aramis moaned suddenly and came. Porthos came not too long after. It was Aramis who removed the sponge and cleaned her up. The three of them curled up in bed the bed, d’Artagnan drapped across Porthos chest with Aramis pressed against her side. She fell asleep as the two of them talked.


	7. Chapter 7

          D’Artagnan was up and dressed when Athos banged on the door the next morning. She pulled open the door when he first banged and almost got hit in the nose for her troubles. He glared at her.

          “You spend almost all your time here nowadays. Why not just give up your rooms?”

          “Because I need to at least seem presentable if I decide to go back to my old life.” She slipped out the door in an attempt to not let him see the naked Aramis and Porthos on the bed. As the door was almost closed Athos slammed his hand into it. Both Porthos and Aramis bolted up at the resulting bang of the door into the wall. Athos stormed in, his face clouded. D’Artagnan sighed and followed him, closing the door after her. Athos drew his sword and placed it at Aramis’ throat.

          “If you have touched her in any way I will kill you.” D’Artagnan drew her own sword and knocked Athos’ aside.

          “They didn’t do anything I didn’t ask for. Really Athos it’s not like they are going to take advantage of me. Not when I can kick their asses in sword fighting.” She moved in and disarmed Athos, wedging his sword and dagger into her belt.

          “You’re a virgin. You should stay that way until you marry.”

          “And yet men are encouraged to have a much sex as they want before they are wed. Why should I, a women disguised as a man, not enjoy the same freedom with men who know my secret. As long as precautions are taken so that I do not fall pregnant I will be fine. It's not like I will marry anyway. The only ways I would consent to marry was to keep this identity intact or to save a woman who I care about from a forced marriage.” When Athos tried to grab his dagger back, presumably to stab either Aramis or Porthos, she grabbed his hand and forced one of his fingers back.

          “Athos stop trying to fight her. She’s right we didn’t give her anything that she didn’t ask for and I was gentle with her.”

          “Now get out of my rooms before we tell her to stab you. If you’re so concerned about her go feed her. She’s still too skinny.” Athos turned and stormed out of the rooms. D’Artagnan followed him and returned his dagger and sword once she was certain he wouldn’t turn back and go after her lovers again.

          “Were they really giving you what you wanted? It wasn’t forced in any way?”

          “Athos I swear.” D’Artagnan started towards the garrison and felt a hand on her arm pulling her in the opposite direction. As they approached a food seller Athos pulled a few coins out of his belt purse and bought them both slices of fresh bread with a slice of meat. They two of them ate in silence on the way to the garrison. When they arrived, d’Artagnan sat at one of the tables while Athos went to get orders. Aramis and Porthos arrived a while later and got their breakfast from Old Serge.

 

* * *

 

 

          They were on horses this time while other musketeers dealt with the crowds. From her position on horseback, d’Artagnan could see Constance alongside two other girls as the carriage went past. Suddenly one of the girls pushed passed the guards and ran for the carriage. She grabbed hold but fell beneath the wheels. The carriage went on ahead as Treville, Porthos, and d’Artagnan dismounted and ran to the girl.

          “Was she armed?”

          “Only with this.” Porthos held up the roll of paper. Treville nodded Constance past the guards and she knelt next to the fallen girl.

          “Who was she?”

          “Therese DuBois.” D’Artagnan looked up at the worry in her friend’s voice. She reached out and touched her friend’s shoulder.

          “What was she doing?”

          “I don’t’…” Constance grabbed for the slip of paper in Porthos’ hands. “Fleur. What does this mean?” Constance stood up and went as if to go to someone in the crowd. “Fleur?” She looked around and d’Artagnan stood. “Fleur?”

 

* * *

 

 

          “I can’t bear the thought of Fleur alone, lost in Paris.” They had returned to Constance’s house after their duties had ended.

          “We’ll find her. I promise.”

          “Oh, what am I going to tell her father. He’s my husband’s cousin.” Porthos gently helped Constance to a seat. Once she was seated d’Artagnan and Porthos sat as well.

          “How long have you known our friend, Therese?”

          “A month or so. There is one thing that might help. Comtesse de Laroque had taken an interest in her. She was teaching her to read and write.”

          “Many enlightened nobles show kindness to their servants.” D’Artagnan decided that she liked this Countess. If only for deciding that girls deserved a right to education. Even servants daughters like Therese.

          “This was more than that. Therese knew Greek and Latin and even studied the stars. Fleur attended some of her lessons too. They went in secret.”

 

* * *

 

 

          Athos and Aramis watched the introduction of the priest they had rescued that morning with little interest. It wasn’t until Treville stepped up that they took an active interest in the proceedings.

          “Your majesty a young woman, Fleur Boudot, has gone missing. A friend of the girl who died this morning. We have reason to believe that the Comtesse de Laroque may know something of her whereabouts.”

          “What makes you say so?” The queen sat up slightly in her chair.

          “She regularly attended the comtesse’s salon and seems enthralled by her.”

          “That’s very, very shocking. We can’t have the Comtesse abducting young women and spiriting them away to her boudoir.”

          “Whatever are you implying cardinal?”

          “There have been ugly rumors your majesty. It’s all scuttless nonsense I’m sure.”

          “Ninon is so very pretty I could listen to her nonsense all day.” The queen shot a disapproving look at the king while Treville hid his chuckle. “Handle the matter discreetly. The comtesse is from a very distinguished family. I don’t want to upset unduly.”

 

* * *

 

 

          The four men entered the Comtesse de Laroque’s house following the maid. D’Artagnan glanced around at all the young ladies seated or standing, talking and reading. It was Porthos who spoke first.

          “Does anyone here know the whereabouts of Mademoiselle Fleur Boudot?”

          “If you have questions, Monsieur, address them to me.” The Comtesse de Laroque stepped forward gracefully.

          “Comtesse de Laroque. I am here on behalf of the king. My name is..”

          “I know who you are. I’ve often seen you at court and thought how handsome you are.” Athos looked down at her words. “There is a melancholy aspect to your looks that I find intriguing, but it's probably only mental vacancy.” The three other musketeers looked at each other with smiles on their faces.

          “I hope not.” Athos’ voice was softer than any of them had heard it before except to d’Artagnan. “Forgive our intrusion…”

          “I will not forgive it. This is a place of scholarship where woman can enjoy each other's company without the crude attentions of men. What is it that you want?”

          “Ah. We are looking for Fleur Boudot. She had run away from her family and they are anxious.”

          “Anxious to marry her into a life of domestic slavery no doubt. She’s not here. You can go now.”

          “Your broach. What does it mean?” Porthos was quiet and respectful when he spoke.

          “It is a wren. A bird that cannot be caged.” She let her eyes wonder over the group of musketeers and let her eyes rest on d’Artagnan. “A symbol of hope and freedom.”

          “A symbol of your own dreams and ambitions I would imagine?” Aramis bowed slightly to the lady.

          “Ah. We have a romantic in our midst. Observe ladies the remarkable phenomena. A man of wisdom and perception.”

          “If by romantic you mean a man who gladly acknowledges the superiority of the female sex then I accept the description.” Aramis bowed slightly again.

          “Your charm won’t work here. We are quite immune.”

          “We are not here to discuss your beliefs. We’re looking for Fleur Boudot.” Athos tried not to glare at his friend’s attempt at charm.

          “And I already told you she’s not here.”

          “Then you won’t mind if we search your house?”

          “On the contrary, I mind very much.”

          “I could insist.”

          “Or you could take my word. Am I right? Is there an inner sadness that informs the beauty of your features? Answer me honestly and I shall allow you to search my house.”

          “We all have our deep secrets and hidden emotions Comtesse. Allow me to keep mine to myself.”

          “A barely adequate answer. But I am feeling indulgent. Follow me.” Athos gestured for the others to stay and followed the Comtesse. They moved together to observe the room as the ladies continued what they had interrupted.

          “Well if that wasn’t flirting I don’t know what is?” d’Artagnan felt her heart twinge at her words.

          “Rubbish. She can’t stand him.”

          “One day we’ll sit down and I’ll explain women to you.” Both Porthos and d’Artagnan smirked and d’Artagnan relaxed. One of the ladies eyed him from under her lashes and she smiled slightly. She could handle Athos and the Comtesse flirting. She wished that she had a place like this to learn in when she was growing up.

 

* * *

 

 

          “There. You have searched every room in my house.”

          “I would have your word. It was you who insisted on the search.”

          “Fleur Boudot is not here. I don’t know where she is. Do you know how many husbands, fathers, lovers, brothers come here looking for their lost girls? It can never be that these women choose to leave of their own free will. It must always be that Ninon de Laroque has corrupted them.”

          “Therese and Fleur were far below you in station. They were not in a position to make decisions of their own free will.”

          “I view all women as equals. No matter what the circumstances are.”

          “You have the money and position to indulge such whims. Look outside your window and tell me everyone is equal.”

          “You accuse me of hypocrisy. Yet from where I stand, you are the hypocrite. You lecture me on equality yet I see a girl among you. Is she not equal to you and the others?” At his startled look she held out a hand. “I will not report her. I trust that you would have sent her packing if she could not stand her own. What were the circumstances that led to her joining you if I may ask?” Athos turned to look out the window and quickly thought through the merits and detriments of telling this woman about d’Artagnan. Comtesse de Laroque would be able to hide d’Artagnan if her secret ever was found out yet she could report d’Artagnan to the cardinal. He would just have to trust that the Comtesse truly believed in what she spoke.

          “Her mother died in childbirth. Her father educated and taught her to fight. When he died at the hands of a man posing as me, Charlotte dressed as a man and came to challenge me. She helped Porthos and Aramis to clear my name. We decided that a good a fighter as Charlotte should not go to waste. It is an honor to have her fighting by my side.”

          “Have you laid with her?”

          “I have not. Aramis has.”

          “Was it a favor for hiding her secret?”

          “I believe that Porthos and Aramis truly care for her. None of us would ever force her into anything besides accepting our care. If left to her own devices she won’t eat but one meal a day and refuse to buy new clothes when her old ones are completely worn out. All of us provide her with food, clothes, and the gear she needs to be a musketeer. She is truly a sister-in-arms.” Ninon appeared to think over his answer. Moving to a desk, she opened a drawer and pulled out a full purse. When it was handed to him he opened it to find it full of gold coins.

          “For her upkeep. I will gladly be the patroness to such a strong woman. She deserves the life she has chosen.”

          “Thank you for your help.”

          “Will I see you again?”

          “Why?” She pulled him into a kiss. His hands went to her waist.

          “That’s why. You are an honorable man with honorable intentions. Come back this evening and dine with me?”

 

* * *

 

 

          Athos met Ninon in her library and they left. Before they dined, he took her to see Therese in the morgue. Ninon gently stroked the girl’s shoulder and told him how she had educated her and given her clothes and food. Athos noticed one of the thieves he had stopped that morning and gave instructions on the care of the bag that the man had been carrying when he died.

          “May I ask? Do you dislike men?” They were walking back to Ninon’s house after dinner.

          “I have had many suitors. Some more than acceptable. But I believe marriage to be a curse. I will not submit to it.”

          “As it happens I agree. But why?”

          “I am a wealthy woman. But on my wedding day, everything that I own becomes the property of my husband. Including my body. I will not be owned by anyone.”

          “So what they say is true. You are a rebellious woman.”

          “Does that frighten you? Because I will remind you that our little wren is the same.”

          “No. But I was married, once, and now I am done with romance.”

          “It ended badly?”

          “You could say that.”

          “I am sorry for it. I want equality between the sexes not hate.”

          “GET OUT!” The door to Ninon’s house burst out and Aramis rolled a red guard down the steps. Spotting Athos he pointed inside. “Trouble.”

          “These are the cardinal’s men I knew nothing of this.” Athos ran after Aramis to find the house being ransacked. Aramis put himself in front of guards to let the ladies escape. Ninon ran in after and tried to get the men to stop. Athos pushed her to the side gently.

          “Stay back.” As one of the guards dragged a woman by the hair Athos stepped up. “Where is your authority for this?” The guard let go of the woman and started fighting Athos Ninon pulled her to safety. “Aramis.” Athos tossed a book to Aramis and grabbed on of his own. They didn’t want to draw their weapons but they still fought back.

          “We found them. Sleeping in a hidden chamber.” The guard turned towards the comtesse as a string of girls appeared from behind a bookcase. “Comtesse de Laroque by the orders of the cardinal you are under arrest for the abduction of Fleur Boudot and others.”

          “You said she wasn’t here.”

          “She begged me not to tell anyone. Please. Make them stop.”

          “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

 

* * *

 

 

          The musketeers rode into the courtyard of the monastery where the Comtesse was to be kept. A red guard was also accompanying them.

          “Why is she being tried here.” Porthos had slid from his horse and joined Aramis on the ground.

          “The cardinal wants to avoid a public hearing.”

          “Does anyone really believe in witchcraft?”

          “The acquisition is a fine way to stop the tongues of outspoken women. Let us hope our little wren never ends up in this situation.”

          “She had the girls. She lied. She brought the fate on herself.” Aramis rest a hand on Athos’ shoulder.

          “You’re being too hard on her. She was protecting the girl not deceiving you.”

          “She knows the wren’s secret. I hope that she will keep her tongue during the trial.” Athos walked off. Porthos shook his head and followed Athos. Aramis walked towards the comtesse.

          “For what it's worth Madame, this trial is a mockery of religion. The God I believe in stands for love, not cruelty.”

          “You are a contradiction Monsieur Aramis. The soldier who preaches love and a famous libertine who cherishes women.”

          “We all search for truth in different ways.” He pulled the crucifix that the queen had given him out from under his shirt. “If you have faith in your heart take this.” He slid it over his head and placed it in her hand. “Please. Take it. My God will not abandon you.”

 

* * *

 

 

          Fleur was sobbing on Constance’s shoulder while d’Artagnan watched from the door. She wanted to go to the girl and comfort her but she couldn’t

          “It's not so easy when you don’t have money. We all have to accept our fate in life.”

          “Why? So we can end up like you? Married to a man you hate.”

          “I don’t hate Bonacieux. I am only trying to be realistic.” A man barged into the house and went stomping into the kitchen. He grabbed Fleur by the arm and pulled her up.

          “Do you know the shame you have brought on my name?” When the man moved to backhand his daughter d’Artagnan spoke up.

          “Hey. There’s no need for that.”

          “This is family business. You stay out of it.” The man lowered his hand a turned to Constance. “I trusted you to look after her. You knew she was meeting that woman and you lied to cover for her.”

          “She only wanted an education.”

          “What does she need an education for? She’ll be a seamstress until she’s married and then she’ll be a dutiful wife and mother. That’s all.” The man dragged Fleur off.

          “Constance help me, please.” D’Artagnan caught the man as he left the kitchen.

          “If you hurt her, I’ll know.”

          “I’m not going to hurt her. I love her. But why won’t she do as she’s told.”

 

* * *

 

 

          Ninon was seated before the panel of holy men. The two nuns who had been assigned to her care stood a step behind and off to the side of her. Guards stood around the room. The four men stood with Treville in front of the fence that held the onlookers and witnesses back.

          “Comtesse Ninon de Laroque, confess your offenses now and spare your victims the ordeal of giving testimony.”

          “I cannot confess to an imaginary crime.”

          “Do you deny you believe in Satan’s magic? Now I advise you to consider your answer seriously.”

          “And I advise you not to ask ridiculous questions.”

          “Fleur Boudot come forward.” The girl walked to the front of the room and glanced back at the Comtesse who nodded encouragement. “All will be well if you tell the truth. What happened to you at the comtesse’s salon?”

          “May I had a drink of water?” The cardinal waved her forward and poured her a glass.

          “Answer my question.”

          “The comtesse taught us things.”

          “What things? Many of our young women are educated. It isn’t something we’re ashamed of.”

          “Not just embroidery and sewing. Natural philosophy, the movement of the cosmos, the secrets of our bodies.”

          “The bodies? So she took you and locked you in a secret room and showed you intimate things.” The girl looked terrified.

          “You twist every word that comes out of her mouth.” The comtesse sprung to the girl’s defense.

          “Be quiet or you’ll be gagged.”

          “I was gagged the day I was born a woman.”

          “Chief sentiment from the decadent romance novels your acolytes waste their time in reading.” Turning back to the girl the cardinal spoke quietly. “There’s no need to be ashamed child. This woman has used you for her foul appetites. You cannot be blamed.”

          “You’re making her work sound corrupt. You’ll suffer for this. You’re the one who will be judged.”

          “Take her away.” The monks moved forward and escorted Fleur back to her father. “The court will hear the testimony of madame de la Chapelle.” Milady moved up behind Athos as he offered comfort to Fleur. “Madame de la Chapelle, tell us of your experiences at the comtesse’s salon.”

          “Ninon did to me what I saw her do to other women. She gave me wine and a bitter potion of some kind. I felt unsteady. As through in a reverie. I awoke in her private chambers.” Athos looked up at the voice and moved towards the gate that would let him back into the clear floor area. “My clothes had been removed and I remember spells and ritual incantations. I felt a deep and terrible shame.”

          “Why are you saying these things?” Ninon looked up at the woman she had trusted.

          “THIS WOMAN IS A LAIR! SHE IS NOT WHO SHE EVEN CLAIMS TO BE!” Athos exploded from his position. “SHE IS A CONVICTED CRIMINAL!” Aramis, Porthos, and Treville grabbed him before he could reach Milady.

          “Why does this man accuse me? Is he a friend of Ninon’s?”

          “Restrain him immediately.”

          “SHE IS NOT TO BE TRUSTED.”

          “ATHOS CALM!” Treville pushed Athos against a window and held him there.

          “The court has heard enough of this witness you are excused.” As milady passed Athos she shot him a look. “Comtesse Ninon de Laroque, It has been proven in the face of God that you are a practicing witch who has consorted with the devil. The court finds you guilty of all counts.”

          “This is madness. I am not a witch. They do not exist.”

          “More blasphemy. Stop her mouth.” The visiting priest on the cardinal’s right gestured. One of the nuns moved forward but the cardinal stopped her with a hand gesture.

          “In a time to be determined, you will be taken to a place of execution. Your body will be burned to ashes.” Everyone parted to the side and stood as the queen entered the room. “Your majesty.”

          “It is the king’s wish that, unless the comtesse de Laroque confesses her crimes freely and without torture, she be spared the death sentence.” The queen assisted the comtesse to her feet and gripped her hand.

          “I have never consorted with the devil until this moment. I am looking at him.”

          “Contend from her own mouth. Such language amounts to a con…” The cardinal dropped to the ground writhing and seizing. Aramis moved forward and looked him over. With Porthos’ help, they moved him to his bed quarters in the monastery. Aramis shouted orders as the others held the cardinal down to prevent him from hurting himself.

 

* * *

 

 

          “Where’s the comtesse?” Aramis walked towards his brothers-in-arms as they investigated the water goblet.

          “Took her back to her cell. The cardinal?”

          “Still alive. Just.”

          “Who has a reason to poison him?” When they couldn’t come up with an answer they turned towards Athos. “Athos. That woman, Madame de la Chapelle, who is she?”

          “How do you know her? How do you know she was lying?”

          “Her whole life is a lie.” Athos walked towards the windows and Porthos and Aramis sighed.

          “Whoever she is she can wait. Right now our job is to find out who killed the cardinal.”

          “It was clearly the witch.” The visiting priest entered the room. “You all heard her curse him.”

          “He was poisoned not bewitched.”

          “Satan turned his blood into acid on her command. I’ve seen it before.”

          “We’ll add Satan to the list of suspects.” The all hid chuckles.

          “And I shall pray for the cardinal’s life. ‘Cause when men such as he are helpless against the powers of evil, then none of us are safe. I leave for Rome in the morning. Paris is no place for pious men.”

          “Your bag father,” Athos remembered the bag he had found in the morgue. “It was found in the morgue with the body of the man who found it. I’ll see it’s returned to you before you leave.” The priest walked out.

          “We need to talk to Fleur Boudot.”

 

* * *

 

 

          “You think I poisoned him?”

          “That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard.” Constance looked close to slapping someone. “Even by musketeer standards.” D’Artagnan knew she had to calm her friend down before she did slap one of her other friends.

          “Let her talk please.”

          “Tell us the truth.”

          “I didn’t hurt him. I didn’t do anything. I swear it. I have to go. My father is waiting.” She stood and headed towards the garrison gate. She stopped when Constance stood. “You know I am to be married. He’s the forty-year-old widow over the butcher's store in the market. I’m told he’s a very good catch.” She turned and left, Constance following after her. It was d’Artagnan who spoke first.

          “This isn’t right. She shouldn’t be forced to marry after this.”

          “Not everyone is as lucky as you are little wren.”

 

* * *

 

 

          “Well if it wasn’t Fleur, who was it?” Porthos followed Athos into the morgue. The other two followed close behind.

          “Ninon?”

          “No, she was nowhere near him.”

          “Where’s the bag?” Athos ignored the conversation going on behind him.

          “One of her followers then? We should look at everyone who went to her salon. Perhaps one of them met with the cardinal.” Porthos shrugged at d’Artagnan’s suggestion.

          “Did you ever find out how he died?”

          “Some form of apoplexy. He was having a drink at an inn nearby. One moment he was laughing and joking and the next he convulsed and fell down dead on the spot.”

          “Just like the cardinal.” Aramis moved forward to the body.

          “Sistini.” Athos dropped the bag he was carrying and began going through it. D’Artagnan joined him while Aramis and Porthos looked at the body.

          “Open his mouth.”

          “You open his mouth.” Aramis did and smelled.

          “He stinks.”

          “Well, he’s dead.”

          “Not like that. There’s something bitter on his tongue. I know that smell.” D’Artagnan took the pocket bible and felt the pages. “It was on the cardinal’s breath.”

          “The pages are damp.”

          “Poison.” Athos gestured to a water dish. “Wash your hands. Everything’s soaked in it.” He sniffed the glass bottle and put it down. “This is what it came from.”

          “He must have drunk half the bottle before he realized it wasn’t alcohol.” D’Artagnan and Athos washed their hands as Porthos spoke. “The rest spilled in the bag.”

          “Sistini’s still at the abbey.”

          “The cardinal is still alive.” The four of them rushed out.

          “This is the cardinal we are talking about. Why are we running?” Athos tried not to glare at Porthos.

 

* * *

 

 

          When they arrived at the abbey they found a bonfire being built.

          “What’s this? The death sentence was commuted.”

          “The comtesse confessed.” They ran up the stairs.

          “Where’s father Sistini?” The monk shook his head. Aramis spotted the man they were looking for across the courtyard.

          “He’s over there.” They ran around the courtyard and pushed passed monks coming from prayer. As they passed they pulled down the hoods only to find their man gone.

          “To the cardinal’s rooms.” When they entered they found the cardinal fighting back. Athos shot the man quickly. He fell and they rushed to the cardinal’s side.

          “You’re late.”

          “We’re glad to find you well your eminence.”

          “I doubt that. But thank you for the sentiment.”

          “You knew it was Sistini who tried to poison you?”

          “A sacred relic, soaked with poison. An old papal trick. I should have guessed earlier.”

          “We’re running out of time.” Aramis had stayed outside to keep an eye on the pyre.

          “You don’t need to kill her. Please? You can have everything you want and still let her go free.”

          “This is all very dark ages isn’t it? A glimpse of your own mortality does make one less willing to hasten others to their death. I’m not a cruel man. Just a practical one. What do you propose?”

 

* * *

 

 

          “STOP. THE SENTENCE IS COMMUTED. CARDINAL’S ORDERS!” Athos pulled the torch from the guard’s hand as the others pulled the burning tinder from the pyre. D’Artagnan jumped up to cut Ninon free.

          “I will not die today?” D’Artagnan handed Ninon down to Athos who gripped her to keep her from falling.

          “Not today Madame.” She gripped Aramis’ hand as she passed.

          “Your god did not abandon me after all.” Athos led her away.

          “How come God gets all the credit?” Porthos sat on the lip of the platform.

 

* * *

 

 

          The four musketeers stood as the cardinal explained the conditions to Ninon. Her estates and money were forfeit to the crown. She was to be given a small allowance to live quietly outside Paris. She was warned that is she tried to tell the truth her original sentence would be reinstated and she would burn.

          “My voice will never be silenced. But I promise that you will never hear it.”

          “What about the monks. They’ll know?”

          “It’s a closed order. Gossip is not encouraged. We’ll need a body to make this look convincing. Luckily one has just become available.” The musketeers escorted Ninon out of the abbey. As she left she handed Aramis back his crucifix. They arranged for transport out of Paris and Athos accompanied her to it.

          “What will you do now?” Athos stood with her next to the cart.

          “I thought I would open a school. For the daughters of the poor. I shall enjoy being a teacher. If it will help more girls like your wren I will gladly do it.”

          “Madame de la Chapelle, did she ever tell you anything about herself?”

          “Now that I think of it very little. So you did know her after all.”

          “In another time. In another life.” Ninon reached up and stroked his cheek.

          “Be careful Athos. She has the cardinal’s protection. A blow against her is a blow against him. And he won’t take it lightly.” She pulled him into a kiss. “I could have loved a man like you.”

          “It’s a pity neither of us are the marrying kind.”

          “Take care of the little wren for me. I can see that you care for her deeply. You, Aramis, and Porthos. She deserves your protection, care, and even your love.” Athos handed her up onto the cart. “You no longer have me as her patroness but I believe that you will do well by her. Use what I gave you sparingly.” The cart took off. Athos watched it go then got on his horse. He rode for Porthos’ rooms.

 

* * *

 

 

          D’Artagnan was in Constance’s house when Fleur came running in excited.

          “Constance. You won’t believe what’s happened. My father has changed his mind. I don’t have to marry yet. He’s even letting me continue my education.”

          “I wonder what happened.”

          “It’s strange. He said a woman persuaded him. I’m sure it was Ninon. She was so beautiful and inspiring. She made even my father see sense. I’ll pray for her every night.”

          “I’m happy for you.” Fleur threw her arms around Constance as d’Artagnan watched with a small smile on her lips. When Fleur left she stood.

          “It was you who went to Boudot wasn’t it? You pleaded for Fleur.”

          “Don’t be silly.”

          “You are the finest woman I have ever met. And I don’t believe there is a more generous soul in all of France.” Constance moved forward and pressed a hand to her mouth.

          “Stop that. You’re embarrassing me.”

          “And what if I want to embarrass you? Hm? Why shouldn’t I list all the reasons I am lucky to have you for a friend? I admire and respect you.”

          “Say that again.”

          “That I admire and respect you?”

          “Not that part you idiot.”

          “That I am lucky to have you for a friend.”

          “Now is that so hard to say. After all the trouble you get me in. My husband is starting to question our relationship. He seems to think that I am romantically involved with my boarder.”

          “If he knew the truth he would be appalled. Let’s just make him believe that we are lovers alright? It will keep him from investigating further.”

 

* * *

 

 

          Athos reined up beside Porthos’ rooms. He could tell that Aramis was inside but not d’Artagnan. Dismounting he tied his horse up and walked up the stairs. He knocked on the door and Porthos opened it.

          “I have come to apologize to you two about the events surrounding that morning.” Porthos let him in and closed the door. Athos pulled out the full purse that Ninon had given him when they went out to dinner. He dropped it on Porthos’ table. “The Comtesse gave this to me before she lost her wealth. She offered to be d’Artagnan’s patroness.”

          “Did you tell her about d’Artagnan?” Aramis picked up the purse and whistled. “This will pay for d’Artagnan’s upkeep for at least a year.”

          “She called me a hypocrite for lecturing her on equality. She asked me why I was so against it when I allowed a woman on my team.”

          “So you told her.” Porthos sat at the table and balanced on the back two chair legs.

          “I gave her the abridged story.”

          “Did you mention her name?”

          “Only her first name. We referred to her as our little wren from that point on.”

          “You said something about apologizing when I opened the door.” Athos took a breath and wrapped his hands around the back of a chair. When he looked up he looked determined.

          “It was something Ninon said when she left. She said that it was obvious that we cared for d’Artagnan deeply and that d’Artagnan deserved our protection, care, and our love. I realized that I was jealous. That’s why I reacted the way I did and I’m sorry.”

          “Brother we understand. You will have a hard time winning d’Artagnan back though. You crushed her heart.”

          “She is still on edge around me isn’t she?”

          “You have got to admit you’ve been an ass to her since you find out her secret.” Aramis rested a hand on Athos shoulder and returned the purse. “You’ll find something to make it up to her.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back at college for the term and this means updates will be slower. It takes me about fifteen hours to write and edit a chapter so with homework and classes I'm guessing it will take me a week to get one chapter written and ready to post. Next week (second week in my school's schedule) and in 7th week (6 weeks from now) I will be doing theater stuff and can't promise that I will get a chapter out. They will be coming just slower than they have been.

            D’Artagnan had been off since they had headed to Gascony to apprehend LaBarge. No matter how many times Aramis and Porthos tried to ask her what was wrong they got no answer. It was only when they reached LaBarge’s house did they understand. LaBarge was overseer of Gascony. D’Artagnan had said that she couldn’t return home because her lord had taken an interest in her. The three men felt stupid that they hadn’t realized it sooner.

            “We should have left d’Artagnan behind the moment we knew we were going to Gascony.” Athos had spent the entire day muttering under his breath and had decided to tie LaBarge to a tree as far away from them as possible. “I don’t want d’Artagnan anywhere near him. He may recognize her. Don’t wake her up for watches either.” D’Artagnan appeared from where she was gathering wood and Athos shut up. He had been careful with his words around d’Artagnan and he didn’t want her to think that he thought she should have been left behind. Aramis began getting the dinner rations out while d’Artagnan started the fire. When it was started she moved to sit by Porthos where she could watch LaBarge.

            They had learned early on to keep him tied at all times. The first time he had gotten free he had hit Porthos off his horse. It had taken the three men holding LaBarge down for d’Artagnan to be able to retie him. Luckily they were only a day out of Paris. Tomorrow, around midday, they’d ride into the walls and be able to hand him off to someone else.

 

* * *

 

 

            They rode into Paris with Porthos holding LaBarge’s rope. D’Artagnan was at the back of the group, stony face.

            “I have a warrant from the cardinal for the immediate arrest of your prisoner Martian LaBarge.” A captain of the Red Guard rode up to them with a small company of soldiers walking around him.

            “He is already under arrest for the murder of two musketeers.” Aramis wasn’t about to let the Red Guard botch up LaBarge’s fate.

            “Turn him over to us for questioning.”

            “It’s not safe here.” Athos could see LaBarge moving his weight so that he could attack. “I want it noted that he’s a very dangerous man.”

            “Duly noted.” Porthos shook his head knowing that the captain didn’t believe them.

            “Very well.” Athos nodded to Porthos who handed off the rope.

            “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.” D’Artagnan looked completely at rest yet she was ready to fight if necessary. The captain took the rope and kicked LaBarge. Porthos made a tisking noise.

            “This should be fun.” They watched as LaBarge pulled on the rope, yanking the horse in the direction he wanted. The horse toppled over and the captain went sprawling into chicken cages. One of the guards rushed LaBarge and was thrown. LaBarge took the next charger and twisted him so that his sword cut the ropes. With both hands free, he punched them.

            “I think they need our help.”

            “They’re just too shy to ask.” Aramis dismounted along with the others and they moved into the fight.

            “Stay out of this damn you.” LaBarge had noticed them dismounting and knew he would end up on the ground again if they attacked. He turned and broke the captain’s sword over his knee. Punching the captain he used him as a human shield. The captain fell with his throat slit on top of another man. The four Musketeers walked around the pileup and moved on LaBarge. LaBarge charged the musketeers, engaging Porthos first. Porthos dodged the broken sword and punched him in the face. Athos moved in and grabbed the hand with the sword at the wrist, ducking under LaBarge’s punch and lining him up for Aramis’ punch to the gut. D’Artagnan punched him in the face and joined Aramis in grabbing LaBarge’s arms. Porthos grabbed the man from behind and Athos grabbed him around the waist. The four of them shoved LaBarge to the ground. They rebound his hands as they heard a shing of a sword.

            “Musketeer scum. It’s your fault captain Trudue is dead.” The four of them drew their swords against the four red guards. They fought off the guards without any effort. LaBarge very wisely chose to stay on the ground.

 

* * *

 

            “Captain Trudue was given fair warning. His own arrogance killed him.” Treville followed the king while the musketeers followed him.

            “LaBarge is a regional intendant. You had no business arresting him without coming to me first.” The Cardinal was just as mad as Treville. They had been shouting accusations at each other from the moment they had seen each other.

            “Your intendent is a violent criminal who subjected Gascony to a reign of terror.”

            “I went to Gascony once. It was full of sheep and hedges.” The king took a glass of wine and sipped it.

            “I was in the process of recalling him to Paris before Captain Treville so recklessly intervened.”

            “His guards put innocent lives at risk.”

            “Your musketeers are lucky my guards didn’t kill them.”

            “Really? You know what. Any of my musketeers could thrash any of your red guards. At any time.”

            “A thousand livre Captain Treville is right. Each side to choose his champion and a contest to settle the matter. What do you say cardinal? Do you accept the wager?”

            “Shall we say two thousand livre?”

 

* * *

 

 

            D’Artagnan moved quietly into the house being careful not to let the door make a noise behind her as she slid inside. Moving to the kitchen, she snuck up on Constance. Reaching out, she wrapped arms around her friend’s waist.

            “Boo. Did you miss me?” Constance shook her head laughing.

            “Not at all.” She turned and hugged d’Artagnan. “Was it hard returning home?”

            “No one recognized me. That’s a blessing at least. And it wasn’t exactly home. We didn’t visit my village.” The door opened and Monsieur Bonacieux entered. He stopped when he saw d’Artagnan in the kitchen with his wife. The two friends had moved apart when they had heard the door open and Constance had gone back to cutting vegetables.

            “Your rent’s overdue.”

“Apologies for that Monsieur. I have not received any income from my farm over the last two months.” D’Artagnan made a mental note to remind Aramis about her rent.

            “Well, you’ve put yourself in a reckless position. You’re a farmer who neglects his land and a would-be-musketeer with no commission in sight. I could point out your folly but perhaps it’s not necessary.” Constance and d’Artagnan traded looks as Monsieur Bonacieux left the room.

 

* * *

 

 

            D’Artagnan strode into the garrison for roll call the next morning as Treville started to speak.

            “Gentleman, finally we have the opportunity to prove what we have always known.” D’Artagnan walked over to Athos. Aramis and Porthos turned slightly to see her.

            “What’s going on?”

            “There is to be a competition between the musketeers and the red guards.”

            “Each side will choose a champion to settle the issue of whichever one’s greater.” Porthos moved backward to stand a step ahead of Athos.

            “As if it were in doubt.” D’Artagnan shrugged.

            “How will this champion be chosen?” Treville heard her this time.

            “There will be competitive trials. And a thirty livre entry fee.” Groans could be heard around the garrison.

            “Thirty?”

            “It forms a prize purse? Winner takes all.”

            “What didn’t you say so before?”

            “This isn’t about money. It’s about the honor. The musketeers.” D’Artagnan was coming up with ideas to gather the thirty livres. She couldn’t ask her friends for the money. They needed it for their own entrance fee. Athos watched the inner struggle as d’Artagnan tried to figure out how to get the money. He decided that if d’Artagnan couldn’t get the money he would pay with Ninon’s money. It would subtract a bit from their reserves but if it made d’Artagnan happy he would do it. They joined their friends at a table and Porthos poured some wine.

            “Well gentleman, may the best one among us win.”

            “Those of us who are allowed to compete.”

            “You’re a musketeer in all but name.” Athos turned to the girl who had settled on the stairs and was tossing a dagger from hand to hand. “All you lack is the king’s commission.”

            “Go to Treville. Ask him.”

            “There’s just the issue of the entry fee.” Porthos looked down at his cup.

            “My pockets are empty and the cupboard is bare.”

            “Yeah, I just poured my cupboard.”

            “Porthos my friend. I think it’s time for us to go fishing for a patroness.” Porthos glanced at d’Artagnan who was ignoring them, a frown on her face. He knew she had heard them.

            “Needs must.” The two of them left after finishing their wine and went to Notre Dame. The sat near the back during the mass.

            “Who are the departed?”

            “Head of the candle maker’s guild. Died a year ago. Leaving his widow very rich. Fourth pew, left side, Madame Laroe, has a thing about musketeers. Many brave men have gone there but few have returned. Fifth pew, right side. Madame Rasha, in possession of one indifferent husband, three lovers, and five small and irritating dogs.” Porthos watched the woman near the front turn to glance at him. He straightened and Aramis glanced at him. “Easy does it. It’s a requiem mass not a party at Madame Angels.” Porthos made a noise in agreement and glanced at Aramis and the two of them crossed themselves. As the mass broke up Porthos approached the woman who had been looking at him.

            “My condolences Madame. Your husband was a, he was a great man, and a great candle maker.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Aramis offer the lady with the dogs his arm. “Which goes without saying.”

            “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Porthos placed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly.

            “Porthos. Of the king’s musketeers.”

            “A musketeer no less. How did you meet him?”

            “Ah well, it was… it was at an event. We both attended the same one and obviously. It was ages ago now. Um…”

            “Of course. It was the reception at the palace. When the head of guilds are presented to the king.”

            “Yes.” He laughed nervously.

            “And there were those peculiar courtiers. One of them was dressed as a roman general and wore a lilac blue wing.”

            “Comte de Semane. Yeah. Thinks he was Marc Antony in a previous life.” She leaned in with a sly smile on her face.

            “Cleopatra more likely.” The two of them broke into laughter.

            “Um… Perhaps I can escort you to your carriage.”

            “Oh, I walked here today. I know that’s considered rather shocking but I have been cooped up indoors for so long.”

            “Then allow me to walk you home.”

 

* * *

 

 

            D’Artagnan came to a conclusion and stalked up the garrison stairs. She entered Treville’s office to find him bent over his table.

            “I need your permission to compete. I’m ready.”

            “There’s no guarantee you’ll win. You know that.”

            “I’m asking for a favor. Only for the chance to prove myself.” Treville sighed heavily.

            “You’d be up against the very best. There’s a chance you will be discovered.”

            “I know. There is always that chance. Aramis, Porthos, and Athos cannot be everywhere no matter how hard they try.”

            “D’Artagnan. There’s no easy way to tell you this. I’ve just received a list of charges against LaBarge from the cardinal. Your farm was one of the properties destroyed by LaBarge.” D’Artagnan took a step forward. “Apparently he did it as a warning to other local landowners. He knew your father was greatly respected amongst them.”

            “He targeted me. He was trying to draw me out. If I had been there he would have raped me like he did these other girls.” D’Artagnan gestured to the list she held. “That farm was my only source of income. He knew that.”

            “I’ll make sure justice is done. If that’s any comfort.”

            “Justice won’t pay the rent.”

            “We will handle that as we have always done. I know you have been trying to supplement what we spend on you but you should save what little you have left.”

            “The others are running out of money.”

            “Not Athos and I. We will handle it d’Artagnan.” D’Artagnan put down the list and walked out of the room dejected. She stood in the gateway to the garrison and leaned against the wall. She had been depending on that money to pay for at least some of the entrance fee. She couldn’t go looking for a patroness like the others could. If Ninon had been around then maybe she could have approached her and explained everything. She let herself sink to the ground. Making up her mind she went to Constance.

            “That contest it my only chance. But the entrance fee.”

            “It’s thirty livres. A lot of money.”

            “You don’t have to remind me. First I lose my father then I lose his farm. No money no prospects. I honestly can’t think of what you all see in me.”

            “Everything will be fine. You’ll raise the money and you’ll win the contest. I know you will.”

            “Where am I going to find thirty livres?”

 

* * *

 

 

            Porthos arrived for a dinner with his patroness. She came down the stairs in a dress of blue. He looked her over as he bowed to her.

            “Wow. This is…” He could imagine d’Artagnan dressed like her. He felt a pinch in his heart that he was here instead of with d’Artagnan and that he couldn’t support her like she deserved to be supported by quashed it.

            “A treat for coming out of mourning. It’s probably not redempting but a year is a long time in black crape.”

            “Redempting just means following someone else’s ideas. You followed your own.”

            “I hoped you’ve come hungry. I’ve planned a rather full menu.”

            “I’m always hungry.”

            “This way.” During dinner, Porthos looked around the room.

            “At least you’re surrounded by your husband’s things. Keeps his memory alive I imagine.”

            “I suppose so yes.” Porthos tried not to wince. Just once he wished he had Aramis’ way with women.

            “Having something to remember him by must be a great comfort.”

            “Of course. Well, you should have a token for yourself. How selfish of me not to think of it. Would you like his shaving bowl and brush? His candle snuffer?” Porthos raised a hand to stop her.

            “No no no. I couldn’t. It must be worth thirty livre at least.”

            “I should say so. It's solid gold. I insist you have it. Charles used it every day of his life.”

            “I’d be honored.” He took it and tucked it away.

 

* * *

 

 

            Athos was watching d’Artagnan mutter darkly and kick at the ground. He knew what had befallen his love’s farm and he decided to help by being his normal, gruff self. D’Artagnan needed consistency and normality right now.

            “Leave justice to the courts. You fought for this chance. Now fight to prove you are ready.” D’Artagnan pulled on the gloves he had given her and raised her sword.

            “I am ready.” Athos looked her over and smiled wryly. “What?”

            “You have natural talent but too often you let your emotions run away with you. Talent won’t keep you alive if your heart rules your head.”

            “Can we just get on with it?” Athos drew his sword and shrugged.

            “My point in a nutshell.” D’Artagnan struck first. Athos let himself be pushed backward. Grabbing d’Artagnan’s sword hand he swung his sword under d’Artagnan’s guard. D’Artagnan dodged. “I hear an ordinary prison isn’t good enough for LaBarge. He’s in the bastille living in comfort.” D’Artagnan disengaged and swung to engage again. Athos dodged and point his sword at d’Artagnan’s chest. “His every whim attended to.” D’Artagnan knocked his sword aside. They reset. D’Artagnan lunged as her opening move. Athos caught her wrist and forced her sword to the ground.

            “Imagine him there living the life of a king.” D’Artagnan yanked free with a yell and began to attack Athos without abandon. Drawing her dagger she tried to wield two blades. Athos grabbed her sword and threw her off balance, knocking her to the ground. She spotted Aramis leaning against the targets and Porthos wondering into the yard. “Every soldier has an Achilles heel. Control that and you control the fight.” D’Artagnan strode off through the gate past Treville.

            “So LaBarge is in the bastille is he.” She sheaved her dagger and stormed off. At Treville’s look Athos shrugged slightly.

            “I was trying to provoke him.”

            “You succeeded. Keep an eye on him.” Athos sheaved his sword and took off after the girl.

 

* * *

 

 

            “CARDINAL!” D’Artagnan pushed past the red guards and stormed into the Cardinal’s office. “I wish to talk to you about LaBarge. He destroyed my property and stole everything I own.”

            “There are many claims against him. No doubt his trial will establish the truth of them.”

            “What am I to live on until them?”

            “What still no commission from the musketeers? How disappointing. But there are other regiments.”

            “Other regiments like the red guards?”

            “Why not? A young man of talent and ambition might flourish under my patronage.”

            “I’ll take my chances thank you.”

            “As you wish.”

            “What about LeBarge?”

            “If he confesses you might well receive some form of recompense. If not…”

            “AS A CITIZEN OF FRANCE I DEMAND MY RIGHTS!”

            “YOU DEMAND NOTHING OF ME!” The cardinal clicked his fingers and the two guards d’Artagnan had pushed past moved to grab her arms. She caught them and walked off. Milady appeared out of a side staircase.

            “I feel almost sorry for him living with that miserly cloth merchant Bonacieux.”

            “First Athos and now d’Artagnan. Your fascination with these musketeers seems inexhaustible.”

            “I do everything for you.”

            “Permit me to doubt that. There was a time I found your independence of spirit arousing. I must warn you Milady, that time is now past.”

 

* * *

 

 

            D’Artagnan snuck into the bastille. It was ridiculously easy. The red guards really were incompetent. She turned around a corner and hid against a wall as a guard appeared in the hallway ahead. He walked towards her and she grabbed him. Quickly she stripped him of his uniform and pulled it over her clothes. Keeping her head down, she went to the guard outside the staircase to LaBarge’s cell.

            “You already?”

            “Are you complaining?” D’Artagnan reached out for the keys.

            “No. Watch out. He’s a monster.” Quietly she opened to door and went down the stairs. She ditched the helmet and approached the man on the bed.

            “Wake up LaBarge.” When he didn’t appear to wake she went to get water to throw on him. While her back was turned he stood and grabbed a bottle. When she turned he threw it at her head. She dodged.

            “I know you.” D’Artagnan drew her sword. “What are you a red guard now? What do you want?”

            “My name is d’Artagnan of Lupiac in Gascony. You burned down my farm.”

            “I burned down a lot of farms. What makes you think I can remember yours?”

            “I want your full confession. Without it, I won’t get justice.” LaBarge took a coat and lit it with the torch in his cell.

            “I don’t see what a confession is to you, with a broken neck.” He swung the coat at d’Artagnan who moved sideways. D’Artagnan lunged and got knocked down by the flaming coat. Her sword flew out of her reach and LaBarge punched her in the face. He grabbed her face before rolling her over and pulling her dagger out. D’Artagnan rolled to her feet and grabbed her sword.

            “You will give me that confession.”

            “You know what I like about cutting people’s throats? It stops them talking.” D’Artagnan lunged. LaBarge caught her arm and twisted her, throwing her into the wall. Dropping the knife he caught her next lunge and sent her to the floor again. He gripped d’Artagnan’s head to twist it and break her neck when a voice rang out.

            “Let him go.” Athos stood in the doorway with his gun drawn. LaBarge let her go and stood up. Stepping over d’Artagnan he kept his hands out to his sides.

            “GET OUT!” D’Artagnan grabbed her sword and dagger and marched out of the room. Athos waited a moment then followed. They ran out into the rain. Athos stopped underneath a small overhang and pulled d’Artagnan under with him.

            “What did I tell you about thinking before you act?”

            “I couldn’t help it. I’m not like you. I’m not capable of suppressing my emotions.” Athos looked at the girl in front of him, soaked through in only her shirt and pants. He gave into the temptation and pulled her into a hard kiss. She froze. When he pulled away she looked at him shocked.

            “You are. More than you know.” Athos took her hand and dragged her after him. “Come on. Let’s get you out of this rain and into some dry clothes.” He escorted her to Porthos’ house knowing the big man would take care of her. “Get some rest. We’ll train tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Athos was walking back to his rooms when he heard steps and the voice behind him.

            “You’ve grown careless Athos. I could have killed you just now.” He turned towards his wife and started walking towards her. “Shall we call this neutral ground?”

            “If you wish. I won’t attack a defenseless woman.”

            “You do it on a pretty regular basis is rumors are to be believed. How is the lovely Mademoiselle d’Artagnan?” She studied his face for a moment. “Your face is full of questions. Ask me anything you want?”

            “D'Artagnan is far from defenseless. What is your connection with the cardinal?”

            “I have to make a living somehow. What better patron could I have?”

            “What exactly do you do for him?”

            “I’m a soldier. Just like you. Just like d’Artagnan.” She puzzled the question over for a moment. “Well perhaps not quite, per say. But we all have to exploit our natural talents.” She reached under his collar and pulled out the locket he wore. “You still wear my locket.” She moved closer, lips almost touching. “Why?”

            “Sometimes… sometimes I ask myself the same question.”

            “Shall I show you why?” She lifted his chin with a finger and kissed him. He responded in turn and they kissed for a few moments.

            “Do you really think I could forget who you are and what you did?”

            “Seems neither of us can forget the past. I assume that’s why you have yet to make a move on d’Artagnan. I give you fair warning Athos. Leave me alone. Or you’ll regret it.” She pulled away and began walking up the street.

            “Will you tell the cardinal about d’Artagnan?”

            “I do not wish her harm. We are, after all, alike in our wish to fight.” Milady disappeared into a side alley and Athos lost sight of her.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Every taunt is an attempt to distract you. To discover your vulnerabilities and exploit them. Last night you let your hatred of LaBarge overcome your judgment.” Athos had fallen into a gentler teaching mode the moment he and d’Artagnan had start to spar. He normally didn’t take an interest in the recruits but d’Artagnan had raw talent. Besides, no one else could teach her how to protect herself like he could and he refused to allow her to get hurt. “You’re trip to the bastille was a childish mistake. I thought you had brains but clearly not.” He dodged the lunge and sent her spinning to block him.

            “I know what you’re doing.” Athos noted how calm she was and assumed that Porthos or Aramis had spent part of the night helping her release tension through sex. She moved with the same languidity that Aramis did after he spent the night with a woman. He decided to ramp up the taunts slightly. “That kind of stupidity is exactly why you are not ready to be a musketeer.” He rested his sword on his shoulder and leaned back slightly when d’Artagnan pointed her sword at his throat.

“You don’t mean that.” She lunged. Athos blocked her and spent her spinning again until she was kneeling, his sword at the back of her neck.

            “Of course not. Unfortunately,” he heard Porthos chuckle, “you’re now dead.” D’Artagnan knocked his sword aside and stood. He let her walk a bit to regroup and regain her cool. Glancing at Aramis, he saw approval in the other man’s eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

            D’Artagnan was exiting Constance’s house when Milady approached her.

            “I believe this,” she opened her palm to reveal a purse, “is something you need.” She tossed the purse to d’Artagnan who caught it with suspicion. Opening it she found money. “Thirty livres. Is that right?”

            “How’d you know?”

            “I’ve taken an interest in you d’Artagnan. And it’s not as though we’re strangers, is it?”

            “What’s the catch?”

            “How suspicious you have grown since coming to Paris. There is no catch. I simply want you to compete.” D’Artagnan looked down at the purse in her hand for a moment then nodded.

            “I’ll accept it. As a loan. I’ll pay you back when I win.” Milady smiled walked away. D’Artagnan dug through the purse to reveal a small necklace with a forget-me-not pattern on it.

            “What’s this?”

            “A little good luck charm. And a token of my friendship.” She walked off. Both d’Artagnan and Milady were ignorant of Monsieur Bonacieux watching from a window. He had been watching d’Artagnan for a few days now as he had been instructed by the cardinal. Constance appeared as Milady walked away.

            “What did she want?”

            “She just gave me the money so I can compete.” D’Artagnan held up the purse. Constance looked slightly put out.

            “You shouldn’t have taken it.”

            “I can handle her.”

            “You sure about that?”

            “There’s no need to be jealous. You’re still my best friend.” D’Artagnan went to brush a strand of hair behind her ear and she knocked it aside.

            “There’s no need to be an idiot.”

            “Who else is just going to walk up and hand me thirty livres?”

            “No one.” D’Artagnan walked off and Constance watched her go. Opening her palm she revealed the thirty livre that she had obtained through selling some dishes.

 

* * *

 

 

            Porthos was at Alice’s house again. This time, they were eating a small, yet rich, meal.

            “Your husband was a lucky man.”

            “Food gave him no pleasure. He saw self-discipline as a moral virtue.” Porthos shook his head as she chuckled. “I imagine soldiers are very disciplined too.”

            “When they’re fighting. Off duty…” Porthos made a negative noise. Alice sat up straight as if she had made a decision.

            “Porthos can I ask… it might sound… strange.” She shook her head and looked away. “Never mind.” The silence stretched between them for a while. Porthos leaned in close and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. She looked up at him. Leaning in to meet him she kissed him. When she pulled away she took a deep breath to steady herself.

            “A year is a long time without a kiss.”

            “It’s been a great deal longer than that.” Porthos shook his head.

            “How he resisted you I have no idea. But like I said, self-discipline isn’t my strong suit.”

            “Nor mine.” She leaned in again and kissed him. He stood, taking her with him. When he pulled away he took her hand and led her to a door. “Wrong door.” She lifted her skirts and led him to her bedroom. The sex was wonderful after such a long time without it. Aramis had been to only one to have sex with d’Artagnan. Porthos had been content to lie next to d’Artagnan and kiss her senseless.

 

* * *

 

 

            They were in the yard, handing their entrance fee to Treville when Aramis appeared with his patroness. He kissed her then spun her before she handed him the purse. D’Artagnan tried not glare at her retreating back.

            “Entry fee?”

            “I’ve earned it believe me.” They all watched, astounded, when d’Artagnan dropped a purse into the bowl. “How did you earn the entrance fee?”

            “I found a patron of my own.” Athos smirked slightly as they all set their muskets up pointing towards the targets.

            “Wealthy widow?”

            “Not as far as I know.” D’Artagnan sighted down the barrel.

            “Alright gents,” Treville gained their attention through his quiet words, “When you’re ready.” Athos and d’Artagnan fired instantly. Both of them hit the white ring around the bullseye. Porthos shot next and hit the same area. Aramis hit directly in the middle of the bullseye and tipped his hat to them when they all looked at him.

            Porthos was trying not to laugh as he fought his opponent in hand-to-hand combat. He easily dumped the man on his back. Reaching out a hand to pull the man to his feet he laughed and pulled it away last minute. The man reset and tried again. Porthos easily dodged the punch to his jaw and laughed again. Aramis handed d’Artagnan some food. D’Artagnan appreciated Porthos’ form and strength as he fought. Porthos made eye contact with her before he picked the man up and draped him across his shoulders. He dumped the man into a pile of straw. Aramis shifted as if aroused.

            “The wonder of it all is, he’s not even trying.” Athos smirked from the other side of the pole. When it came time for sword fighting Athos pulled a muddy d’Artagnan aside.

            “Remember, head over heart. Treville will be assessing your attitude as well as your skill.” Athos moved away as Aramis stepped up opposite of d’Artagnan. He did a few stretches before drawing his sword and dagger. D’Artagnan drew her dagger as well. D’Artagnan lunged and attacked first. She could feel Athos shaking his head behind her but she had a plan. Swiping with her dagger, she almost hit Aramis. Spinning, she attacked him again. He threw her off balance and kicked her into the mud. She used her lower position to attempt a swipe at his legs. He blocked it and she spun herself back up to standing using her dagger to deflect his sword. The two continued trading blows and Aramis managed to disarm her dagger hand and throw in into the mud behind her. She rolled on her shoulder and picked it up, popping up to her feet in time to block a downward strike. As she continued with her momentum Aramis nodded slightly. She glanced at Athos who nodded in approval.

 

* * *

 

 

            “I’ve listened to all the places you’ve been,” Porthos and Alice were lying in her bed, “I’ve never traveled more than five miles from Paris. Never been to London, Vienna.”

            “It’s not too late. You should go.”

            “You could come. Be my tour guide.”

            “Well, I never had much time for sightseeing when I traveled. Someone was always trying to kill me.” Alice pushed herself up to look in his eyes.

            “Have you ever thought what you’d do if you weren’t a soldier?” Porthos thought over her question for a moment before he answered.

            “Becoming a musketeer was the best thing that ever happened to me. Until I met you.”

            “Flattery will get you everywhere.” He sighed slightly as she stroked over his chest. “Who is she? Your lover I mean.”

            “I don’t…”

            “I know you are not fully invested in what we have. The first time I met you, you looked guilty for even talking to me. It was like you thought you were abandoning her by searching for a patroness.”

            “You knew.”

            “I have seen many men come into that church for the same reason. Normally I rebuffed them when they approached me. There was just something about you, however, that drew me towards you.”

            “Her name is Charlotte. She’s different from other women in that she knows how to fight. Her father educated her not only with books and pen but with sword, dagger, gun, and horse. He said that she should be able to defend herself.”

            “Is she a soldier like you?” Porthos waited a moment before he made his decision.”

            “I’ve mentioned d’Artagnan before.”

            “The young man you are training. He is very promising isn’t he?”

            “D’Artagnan is Charlotte. And yes she is promising. So promising that Athos has taken notice and taken it upon himself to train her.”

            “She sounds wonderful. I’m sure she understands that you must do what you must to survive.”

            “She understands too well I believe. She found herself a patron to help her with the entrance fee to the competition.”

 

* * *

 

 

            D’Artagnan gathered all of her weapons and made sure she had everything she needed. She tucked her gloves into her belt and went to the cupboard. Opening it, she began to search for the necklace she had been given. When she couldn’t find it she tried her gear bag. Constance came up the stairs and entered her rooms.

            “Have you lost something?”

            “Nothing important. I should go. Captain Treville is choosing his champion this morning.”

            “Of course. Good luck.” D’Artagnan walked by her a rested a hand on her shoulder in passing. Constance thought for a moment and ran after him. “D’Artagnan. You were right. I was jealous. Of course you had to take her money. I just…”

            “You are my best friend Constance.”

            “Besides the boys.”

            “Still my best friend. Someone I can talk to about girly things like how Athos kissed me again. Or how Aramis and Porthos are some of the most considerate lovers ever.”

            “I am happy they are good for you.”

            “Look. I’m going to win this competition. Everything will work out.” Constance hugged d’Artagnan impulsively. D’Artagnan squeezed her tightly then let go. “I’ll see you later.” She turned and walked to the garrison. Treville stood on the stairs and looked down at the gathered men.

            “Choosing a champion from such a fine group of soldiers is a near impossible task.”

            “And the winner is?” Treville glared at the man who spoke.

            “For that reason, I have decided that the only man who can fairly represent you is me.” The men groaned. D’Artagnan opened eyes that she had closed without knowing and looked at Athos. The four of them traded looks and d’Artagnan turned away. Walking to the gate, she collapsed against the wall. Athos followed her and took her shoulder in comfort. Turning he went up to the captain’s office.

            “This is wrong and dangerous.”

            “This challenge is my doing and it’s my responsibility to see it through.”

            “Instead of giving yourself one last moment of glory you should be giving d’Artagnan the chance to win her commission from the king.”

            “You think this is about glory.”

            “All I know is that d’Artagnan has it in her to be a fine musketeer, perhaps the greatest of us all. But now, we’ll never know. Because you have stolen her best chance to prove it.” Athos pulled away from the desk and made to leave.

            “It’s LaBarge. Their champion is LaBarge. I don’t want to see her hurt or dead by his hands. He has already done her enough damage.”

            “She doesn’t need you to protect her. She can handle him.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “Treville’s taken the fight himself.” After Athos had left her she had returned to Constance’s house.

            “Well then, suppose that puts an end to you daydream.” Constance refused to look at her friend remembering the threat of violence against d’Artagnan her husband had made when he caught the two of them hugging.

            “What do you mean?”

            “We were fooling ourselves d’Artagnan.” Constance glanced towards the room her husband occupied hoping d’Artagnan would get the message. Her friend’s eyes widened and she nodded in understanding. “There’s no future for us together. I’m a respectable, married woman. This silly flirtation has to end.”

            “Flirtation? I love you.”

            “But I don’t love you.”

            “If this is about Milady de Winter…”

            “You should go to her. You’ll be needing a rich mistress now. You’ve got nothing. Perhaps Milady will look after you.”

            “I don’t want her. I want you.”

            “I was tempted. I’ll admit that. But I can’t risk my future for you. I have far too much to lose.”

            “I’m sure you’ve made the right decision. I mean what use is love compared to money. Thank you for helping me see things more clearly.” She walked away and went into her room. Quickly she began to pack her things knowing that she could spend a few days at Porthos’ rooms before going to find a new place to live. Once her things were packed she headed to the garrison. She would collect her things, and maybe punch Constance’s husband soundly for threatening Constance with whatever it was he had to make her fake ending a fake relationship with her.

 

* * *

 

 

            They were at the challenge grounds near the palace. Everyone stood at attention as the king and queen arrived. D’Artagnan climbed into her place in line near the entrance to the tent and nodded at her friends. Aramis looked towards the stands and spotted a woman in the crowd.

            “You invited your widow?

            “Her name is Alice.”

            “You only needed thirty livres. Not a wife.” Aramis chided Porthos and shot a look to d’Artagnan who was ignoring them. Porthos followed his glance and shrugged.

            “Did I say anything about marriage? No.”

            “My God. You’re actually considering it.”

            “There is a life beyond the musketeers you know.” He shifted his gaze towards d’Artagnan again and looked her over, smiling slightly.

            “Well on thing I’ve learned,” d’Artagnan smoothed her doublet, “never put your trust in love.” She shot glares at Porthos and Aramis. Athos placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. The announcer stepped into the middle of the dirt arena.

            “The musketeer champion, the famous warrior. Captain Treville.” He gestured at the tent Treville made his way out. He patted d’Artagnan on the shoulder as he passed. D’Artagnan shrugged the hand off.

            “And representing the Red Guard. Their champion, Captain LaBarge.” D’Artagnan lifted her head at the name and looked at the man coming out of the tent.

            “This is some type of joke.”

            “The captain isn’t surprised.”

            “He knew.” Porthos glanced at d’Artagnan and understood why Treville had stepped up to take the task of champion. The older man didn’t want d’Artagnan hurt.

            “The shooting and wrestling rounds have been waived. The challenge will be settled in favor of the superior swordsman.” The announcer walked off towards the edge so that he wouldn’t be in the middle when the fight started. The two men drew their swords. LaBarge made the first strike. The two traded blows until LaBarge landed a blow to Treville’s jaw. Treville staggered back, crying out. He recovered and punched LaBarge’s jaw in return. LaBarge used his superior strength to shove Treville’s sword to the side using his own. Treville pulled out of range and steadied himself. On LaBarge’s next strike he head-butted Treville. The musketeers could hear the king trying to get the cardinal to stop his champion from cheating. The pair continued to fight until LaBarge managed to knock Treville to the ground and stomped on his arm.

            “I’ll kill him.” D’Artagnan stepped forward with her sword drawn. “LaBarge!” The other musketeers followed suit and the red guards stepped up to fight them. The king stood up obviously done with the brawl and shouted. Instantly everything stopped. Athos pulled Treville to his feet.

            “Your man broke the rules cardinal. Captain Treville may nominate another champion if he wishes.” Treville glanced around at his men. His gaze lingered the longest on d’Artagnan. Aramis, Porthos, and Athos all nodded when he looked at them again.

            “I nominate d’Artagnan to take my place.” LaBarge started laughing.

            “My little friend from the bastille. You look even more pathetic in the daylight. I’m going to enjoy this.”

            “Somehow I doubt it.” D’Artagnan landed the first swing and the two engaged. Athos watched as the two of the danced around each other, striking, parrying, and dodging. LaBarge knocked her to the ground and she used her lower position to strike at his legs. Getting to her feet easily, she blocked him.

            “Is that all you’ve got? They engaged again and LaBarge landed a strike on d’Artagnan’s arm. D’Artagnan glanced at it and sighed. LaBarge took the moment of quiet to taunt her again. “Is she your sister? You’re wife?”

            “My cousin. She’s out of your reach.”

            “I doubt that.” D’Artagnan let her rage flow into her sword while still remaining in control. She wanted him to believe that he had made her lose control. He took the bait and she spun him before stabbing him. Leaning in she whispered in his ear.

            “You will never have me.” She pulled her sword free and he dropped. The three men stepped up and slapped her shoulder. She paid attention to them as the king rose.

            “Bravo d’Artagnan. I hereby declare the musketeer regiment the winners. Now the prize money is forfeit to the treasury as after all the rules were broken.” He walked down the stairs followed by the cardinal. D’Artagnan glanced at Athos, unsure what to do. She bowed when the king approached her. Behind her, she heard the sounds of leather bending as the others joined her in bows. “You defended your captain with great loyalty today. I admire loyalty more than any other virtue. Please kneel.” D’Artagnan looked confused. It was Athos who spoke.

            “Get on your knees before he changes his mind.” The cardinal handed the molded, leather should piece to Aramis. D’Artagnan dropped to her knees in understanding.

            “I hereby commission you into my regiment of musketeers.” Athos took the shoulder piece from Aramis and slid it on. He did up the buckle and slapped d’Artagnan’s shoulder as she took a deep breath. “May you serve it always with the same distinction that I saw today.” D’Artagnan rose as the king walked away. Moving to Aramis, she hugged him. Porthos swooped in to hug her next. Athos shook her hand and gave her one of his rare smiles.

            “Well done d’Artagnan. I’m proud to have you under my command.”

            “Thank you.” She took Treville’s good hand and shook it. “Thank you so much.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Porthos was leading Alice away as his friends watched.

            “I’ve never seen real violence until today. It opened my eyes. That’s your life isn’t it?”

            “I don’t enjoy killing, Alice, but I do what I have to do.”

            “I understand. But that life is foreign to me. Your friend, d’Artagnan, seems so much at home in it.”

            “I thought you wanted more excitement.” She laughed lightly.

            “Not that much.”

            “I could never give up soldiering.”

            “And I could never take you from d’Artagnan.”

            “I wish it could be different.” She took his hands and smiled up at him.

            “I am so happy I met you. Take care Porthos. If you or the others are ever in need of a patroness don’t be afraid to come see me.” She raised on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Now go to her. She’s been glaring daggers at me all this time.” Alice turned and walked off. Aramis approached him.

            “So will you marry the lovely widow? Alice.”

            “Who would look after you if I did that?”

 

* * *

 

 

            Constance watched d’Artagnan gather her stuff. When she came back downstairs Constance stood.

            “I suppose you’ll live at the garrison?” D’Artagnan traced a P on her hand to let Constance know she was going to Porthos’ to stay.

            “It’s my home now.” Constance nodded and smiled before schooling her expression into disappointment. “I hope you enjoy your respectable life.” Constance watched her friend leave from the window. The carriage drew up as d’Artagnan passed the tree. D’Artagnan looked at the occupant and nodded.

            “Thank you. For your patronage.”

            “I knew I had spotted a great talent. Can I offer you a lift?” D’Artagnan looked at Milady and shook her head. Closing the door she looked off to the side.

            “Another time perhaps.” She walked off as Milady watched.

 

* * *

 

 

            The four of them were at Porthos’ rooms. D’Artagnan was the first one there and had settled her stuff into various nooks around the rooms. Her clothes she had placed alongside the dresses that she kept at Porthos’ rooms. She had then curled up on the bed as the adrenaline from the fight had left her and taken a nap until she had awoken to Aramis shaking her gently. Porthos was settling some bottles on the table and Athos was looking in her direction with longing in his eyes. Aramis leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled away she whined slightly.

            “Come celebrate with us little wren.” D’Artagnan grumbled and began to shed her shirt. Aramis laughed as Athos turned around. Porthos garbed a chemise out of the closet and helped her into it.

            “Do I have Ninon to think for that infernal nickname?” Standing d’Artagnan shed her pants and Aramis unlaced the half corset. Taking a small pillow from the bed, she chucked it at Athos. When he turned she pointed towards the closet. “Choose something.” Athos hesitated before walking over and flicking through the clothes.

            “How do you have so many?”

            “It’s the reason Aramis and I are without money. We want her to have a chance to let her feminine side out.”

            “I could have helped pay for some.” He selected a dark blue corset and a matching skirt. Aramis slid the skirt over d’Artagnan’s head and secured it around her waist. He handed the corset to Athos who looked at it blankly. D’Artagnan rolled her eyes and took the corset, sliding it over her head before turning to present him with the laces. Athos took them and gave them a small pull. D’Artagnan reached for them and gave them a hard tug.

            “It’s like you’ve never seen a corset before Athos.”

            “She always dealt with putting them on. She had a maid.”

            “So you only took them off her?”

            “Who is she?” Athos shook his head at Porthos’ question and laced up the corset. D’Artagnan leaned back against him when he was done and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

            “Congratulations. It was passed time.” He pressed a kiss to her temple before letting her go. Porthos’ tugged her onto his lap and kissed her soundly.

            “We are so proud of you little wren.” Aramis kissed the top of her head when Porthos’ let her go. “So tell us. What happened with Constance?”

            “Her husband is threatening her with something and he forced her to end the relationship he thought I had with her.” D’Artagnan clenched her teeth and looked at the ground. “I want to find out what he’s holding over her head and destroy it. She doesn’t deserve this.”

            “We’ll help.” Porthos stroked her back in a calming gesture. She relaxed into him. Looking at Athos, she saw the same longing she saw earlier. She reached a hand out to him and he took it.

            “What brought along this change of heart?” He kissed her hand and held it in both of his.

            “Ninon decided to talk some sense into me.”

            “Do I have Ninon to thank for everything?”

            “Probably.” D’Artagnan pulled her hand away and nuzzled into Porthos, hiding her face. Aramis lightly smacked Athos’ shoulder in rebuke and Athos sighed. “I’m sorry for how I treated you d’Artagnan. I’m skittish around relationships with women. I think you know the reason why.” When d’Artagnan didn’t respond he sighed again and gathered his stuff, preparing to leave. Aramis grabbed him before he could and pulled him away from the door. D’Artagnan had pulled away from Porthos’ neck and was looking at him with hurt in her eyes. Athos instantly crossed to her and lifted her chin with his hand. When she didn’t pull away he leaned in and kissed her gently. When he pulled away she whined slightly. Porthos chuckled quietly and D’Artagnan kicked his shin without much force.

            “He’s not going to have his fun and run off little wren,” Aramis spoke from behind Porthos. “If he does I’m sure Treville will give us permission to hunt him down and kill him.” Athos heard the deeper meaning behind the jest. If he hurt d’Artagnan Porthos and Aramis were going to come after him. D’Artagnan lunged to her feet and pressed herself against Athos. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him to her for a kiss. He responded by backing her into a wall and holding her there. He felt two other sets of hands, one on him and one on D’Artagnan, undoing clasps, laces, and buttons. D’Artagnan’s hands came down to join Aramis with Athos’ buttons. Thumps were heard as swords, daggers, and guns dropped to the ground.

            She’d gotten Athos down to his shirt and pants when she felt large hands come around to massage her breasts. Porthos had maneuvered between her and the wall and was now using his position to his advantage. Her head fell back onto his shoulder and she let out a little moan. Aramis caught Athos’ eye and grinned.

            “She’s so responsive.” He trailed a hand down Athos’ back and the man shivered. “Porthos I believe that our lovely leader should have the honor of sending d’Artagnan to heaven. Don’t you agree?” D’Artagnan nodded eagerly and Athos choked. Porthos grinned at Athos’ reaction and moved to pick d’Artagnan up. She squeaked and clung to his neck. When he placed her in the middle of the bed he stripped her of the chemise and slide her smallclothes off. Grabbing the vinegar and sponge he slid large fingers into her. She moaned and pressed down onto the fingers. Athos stood in shock. Aramis used the moment to strip him of his shirt, pants, and smallclothes. He pressed himself against Athos’ back and his skilled fingers teased Athos’ penis. Athos moaned and leaned back into him. Grabbing on of the intestine condoms he had, Aramis rolled it onto Athos then gave him a small shove towards the bed. D’Artagnan was panting and writhing as Porthos finished preparing her. Athos settled over her and kissed her. Slowly he pushed into her.

            The feeling was overwhelming. D’Artagnan had imagined what it would feel like to have Athos inside her and she was glad to say that it felt better than she imagined. Athos had screwed his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Beside her, Porthos had Aramis on his hands and knees and was preparing him slowly. Aramis was practically begging for Porthos to just fuck him already and stop teasing him. Reaching up, she pulled Athos down for a kiss. The movement made him move inside her and they both moaned. D’Artagnan shifted her hips and they moaned again. Athos began moving slowly and their mixing moans added to the sounds in the room.

            To Athos’ intense embarrassment he didn’t last long. He did, however, manage to drag d’Artagnan over the edge with him. When she had come down from the high he gently slid two fingers inside her and pulled the sponge out, mindful of the fact that she was over sensitive. He cleaned himself up and pulled d’Artagnan so that she was half lying on top of him. Aramis and Porthos finished and Aramis draped himself over d’Artagnan’s side. Porthos pulled the covers over them and kissed the sleeping Gascon on the head. Glancing at Athos he smiled.

            “It’s good that you joined us. She needed you.”

            “I was an idiot who didn’t want to admit that I had feelings for another woman after my last relationship went south.” He settled the sleeping d’Artagnan deeper into his arms and fell asleep himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter taking so long. The play I was working on sucked any energy I had right out of me, I got sick, I had a massive exam, and then my boyfriend started having seizures for no understandable reason. So I have had very little time to do anything school related let alone write a 15-page chapter. On top of that when I'm stressed I make more spelling mistakes so editing took twice the normal time. However I got it done and here it is for your entertainment. I have no clue when my next chapter will be done but if you need me I will be over here: stellecraft.tumblr.com

           The week between when they had to ride out with the queen and when they first had sex as a group flew by. Athos trained her harder now that she held a commission but he made it interesting and fun for her. Porthos and Aramis were training her as well. At night the four of them would wonder off to Porthos’ rooms and d’Artagnan could have her fill of her lovers. She quickly discovered that Aramis was up for whatever she wanted to try while Athos was always gentle and caring with her. Porthos was the one to go to when she wanted to be held down. The first time it had happened Porthos had bruised her with his grip. When he saw the bruises in the light of day he had apologized until she had hit him with a pillow.

           D’Artagnan was so lost in the memories of the week that she had spent with them before they rode out that she let her guard down. They were fencing while the queen bathed in a pond known for its fertility properties, something which d’Artagnan highly doubted. She was taking both Porthos and Athos on and they took advantage of her lapse to score lines across her new shoulder piece.

           “For the last time, mind the uniform.”

           “It doesn’t look right on you.” Porthos looked her over.

           “Too shiny. Too new.” Athos looked her over as well.

           “It’s like your mom’s dressed you.”

           “Exactly.”

           “Aramis?” D’Artagnan appealed to her third lover who was cleaning his gun while reclining against a tree. “What do you think?”

           “I think we’ve landed in paradise. Listen to that?” Porthos looked at him like he was crazy.

           “What?” Aramis whistled to the birds. Porthos gave up and swung at d’Artagnan who blocked him. Athos lunged in as well and Aramis shook his head. The two of them knocked d’Artagnan to the ground and dragged her, getting her uniform dusty.

           “That looks better.”

           “Much better.”

           “Who knows, one day she might even land a hit.”

           “Never going to happen.” Athos raked his eyes over d’Artagnan making sure she wasn’t injured and got in position to start again. She engaged him first then turned to fight Porthos.

 

* * *

 

 

           Two days later they were all sitting around, bored.

           “Leave the birds alone.” Athos couldn’t resist needling Aramis slightly.

           “I hate these birds. I hate their…” Aramis whistled in a mocking attempt of the birds as he smacked the bushes aside.

           “I thought this was paradise.”

           “That was two days ago. Now I’m bored. I miss Paris. The excitement. The noise.” D’Artagnan snapped some sticks and threw them into the fire. Aramis drew his gun and aimed. “The danger.” A shot rang out the Athos rolled his eyes.

           “Aramis.” Aramis spun around.

           “That wasn’t me.” The three of them froze for a moment then scrambled for their weapons. Aramis looked at the ground below them to see the figure in white on the ground. He slid down the bank to the flat spot where the body lay.

           “Her majesty.” Porthos followed Aramis down. They rolled the body to find that it wasn’t the queen. The four of them started to run towards where the shot had come from until they heard a voice behind them.

           “Caroline.” The queen stepped out of the tent. They looked at her for a moment. “She borrowed my robe.”

           “GET HER UNDER COVER.”

           “YOUR MAJESTY.” Porthos snatched her and dragged her towards a hiding area. The other three pressed their backs against the bank that they had come down when they had heard the shot. Athos began giving orders.

           “Stay with the queen. Get to the horses.” D’Artagnan and Porthos nodded. “You and I have an assassin to catch.” Aramis nodded as a second shot rang out. “Now.” Athos and Aramis ran towards the shot.

           “D’Artagnan how are we doing?” Porthos continued to provide the queen protection with his own body.

           “Time to go.” The two of them manhandled the queen up the incline and ran to the horses.

           Aramis and Athos spotted the man and followed him.

           “One man on his own. Shouldn’t be a problem.” The aimed through a gap in rocks to see a mounted group of twenty men. “On the other hand.” The two of the ducked as the order to shoot rang out. They ran off. “We’ll leave through the forest. Lose them in the trees.” The continued to run until they found the other two with the horses. The mounted up with the queen in front of Aramis and rode hard. They stopped at an outcropping and d’Artagnan dismounted and pulled out her spyglass.

           “They’re still following us?” Athos looked around as he spoke, ever vigilant for scouts.

           “Yes and they’re not tiring.”

           “Determined.”

           “What if we can’t lose them?” Aramis had stayed mounted with the queen in case they had to escape.

           “We will.”

           “What if we don’t?”

           “We’ve been in much worse situations than this and always prevailed. You have nothing to fear.” At Aramis words, d’Artagnan lowered the spyglass. “This is a relatively quiet day for us.” He chuckled slightly and tugged her closer.

           “Time to go.” D’Artagnan mounted her horse and Athos and Porthos moved to mount as well. They rode a bit further and d’Artagnan stopped to check again. They continued to ride until they found a good stopping place that was not easily found.

           “There’s been no sign of them for an hour now. We’re safe for a while. The queen needs to rest.” They all dismounted and led their horses into the woods.

 

* * *

 

 

           Aramis was knee deep in the stream catching fish by hand in only his smallclothes when the queen approached him.

           “Can I help? I mean not catching fish of course but anything to help.”

           “Rest well you can your majesty. Soon we’ll be riding again.” She took a step towards the stream and Aramis watched her approach tentatively.

           “No. I’d like to be useful. Really.”

           “Well, in that case, can you gut a fish?” She glanced at the fish as it twitched and she gasped. “Porthos is starting a fire. I’m sure he could use help collecting sticks.”

           “Thank you. And I’m sure I can cook a little.”

           The fish was completely burnt. Porthos looked at it with hidden disgust while d’Artagnan tried to eat as much as she could.  Aramis was making noises of enjoyment in an attempt to keep the queen happy.

           “Delicious your majesty.” The others ducked their heads to hide their smiles.

           “It’s the first time I’ve ever cooked.”

           “That’s hard to believe.” Athos tried not to pull a face as he spoke.

           “Would you like another?” She offered it to him. Using the distraction d’Artagnan dumped her plate behind her.

           “Thank you but I’m full.” She offered it around to the rest who politely declined. Athos’ head shot up. “Shhh.” They all heard the sound of hooves and quickly broke camp. “D’Artagnan.”

           “Your majesty.” D’Artagnan helped her mount.

           “I’m tired of running away.” Porthos looked around angrily.

           “Perhaps we should be doing the chasing.” Despite his obvious infatuation with the queen, Aramis agreed with Porthos.

           “The queen’s safety is paramount. We can’t risk it by making a stand.” Porthos pressed a hand into Athos’ chest and stopped him as he tried to move forward.

           “Nor can we outride them forever.”

           “When we can’t, then we’ll fight.” They all mounted and they rode off, the queen with Aramis again. They rode until they saw a fortified building of some type on the hill.

           “Look.” D’Artagnan pointed it out thinking that it would be as good a place as any to stop and fight.

           “You two ride to Paris for reinforcements. We’ll hole up in there until you return.”

           “Whoa whoa whoa. Just you two? Alone?” Porthos was annoyed until he saw Athos glance at d’Artagnan. He knew then that Athos wanted him to protect her while they rode.

           “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

           “We won’t be back before tomorrow at the earliest.” D’Artagnan hadn’t seen Athos’ look and didn’t want to leave her lovers and the queen to be injured or die. “There’s at least a dozen of them.”

           “In that case, you’d better hurry.” Aramis and Athos turned towards the building and Porthos and d’Artagnan turned towards Paris. They rode up the inclined path to find a convent. Athos helped the queen dismount and Aramis rode to stable the horses. As Athos began to close the gates a nun ran to stop him.

           “These gates are never closed.”

           “This is an emergency.”

           “Anyone is welcome here. Day or night.”

           “We are king’s musketeers.”

           “I answer to a higher power.” Athos deiced to play the last card he had.

           “This is your queen. It is your duty to protect her.” The abbess ran out.

           “Close the gates sister.” Athos slammed the gate closed and barred it.

           “Athos.” Athos glanced at Aramis on the wall. He watched at the abbess showed the queen into the convent and went to join Aramis on the wall. The two riders, one carrying a white piece of cloth attached to a dagger, rode up to under where Aramis and Athos were standing.

           “Do we talk or shoot?” Athos sighed and went to get his horse. He rode out to meet the men as Aramis watched from the wall.

           “If you’ve come to surrender I accept.”

           “I’ve heard a sense of humor can be of comfort when facing death.”

           “Then what do you want?”

           “To offer you your freedom. Hand over the queen, I’ll let everyone else live.”

           “Or you could leave now and I won’t kill you.” The man pulled his pistol and shot the other man.

           “He had a chance to kill you and he wasted it. If that’s how I deal with my own men, imagine what I’ll do with you. In case you think there’s anyone coming for you, there isn’t. My men will see to it that your two friends won’t make it to Paris.”

           “Why are you doing this?”

           “It’s what I’m good at.”

           “This is not how a soldier behaves.” At the man’s face, Athos smirked. “White flag, officer’s boots, your men holding the line.”

           “Whatever I once was, I’m not a soldier now.”

           “You may not have the uniform but once a soldier, always a soldier. And soldiers don’t kill women.”

           “Just the one.”

           “You’ve made an error in judgment. I understand. You could ride away and still have your honor.”

           “I’ve given my word. I cannot break it. Without that, I’d have nothing.”

           “You’d have your life. Stay here and I will kill you.”

           “One of us will die. That’s it. The nuns are free to leave without fear of harm. But anyone who chooses to remain in the convent will be killed.” Athos turned his horse as the man did and rode back into the convent. He spared a thought for Porthos and d’Artagnan before shaking the thought from his head.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan was hiding behind a bush when the first two riders passed her. She sprung out of her hiding place and shot on as Porthos shot the other. She started to reload as the other two riders turned and rode towards them.

           “Isn’t this better than trying to escape?”

           “Ask me again in two minutes if I’m still alive.” She fumbled with her gun, unable to get it to reload properly. Porthos shot one as she continued to struggle with reloaded. Just as he looked like he was about to pull her to the side she raised her gun and shot the last man. She sighed and helped Porthos to turn the man she had shot. Looking at his wrist, she noticed the tattoo.

           “Porthos. What’s that?”

           “Nothing I’ve seen before.” Porthos dug through the man’s clothes and pulled out a slip of paper. “A promissory note. To be cashed at a money lenders on the rue de bonniet. In Paris.” The mounted up and rode hard. The garrison was deserted when they arrived.

           “Captain.” D’Artagnan threw herself off her horse before it had completely stopped. Porthos followed suit.

           “Where is everybody?” It was Serge who answered.

           “The whole regiment’s gone off hunting with the king.”

           “What?” D’Artagnan approached the man looking ready to kill. Her lovers were there and she had spent a good deal of time convincing Athos to come to her side. She wasn’t about to see them killed.

           “No one else here but me, one-eyed Florian, and Jacques the stable boy.” Treville strode out of his office to see Porthos gripping d’Artagnan’s arm.

           “Where are the others?” When he was answered with apprehensive looks he asked again. “Where is the queen?” Porthos stepped up looking down at the ground and Treville stalked down the stairs. They rode for the Cardinal. When they entered d’Artagnan though she saw a swirl of a skirt sweeping around behind a pillar.

           “There’s been an attempt on the queen’s life. She’s safe. At least for the time being. I’ve sent word to inform the king of this situation and have my musketeers return to Paris immediately.”

           “But that would take six, maybe seven hours. Can your men hold the convent long enough for rescue to arrive?”

           “As long as Athos and Aramis draw breath, they will do their duty.”

           “I’m sure. The assassins, do we know anything about them?” Porthos stepped up.

           “More serious.” He held up the letter. “This promissory note was found on one of them.”

           “Whoever hired them is in Paris.”

           “May I see that?” The cardinal held out his hand and Porthos handed it over. “When you find the person behind this,” He handed it back to Porthos, “I shall ensure that their punishment is exemplary.” They left. D’Artagnan thought she heard the sound of skirts again as the doors closed.

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos gathered all the nuns together in the chapel. He knew that the right thing to do was to let them go. They would make their way to another convent and maybe return to this one someday after they had left. He thought’s once again turned to d’Artagnan. She had mentioned over the last week that her father had wished her to become a nun should he die before she found someone to marry. He had told her that that way she could continue her education without fear of being treated differently.

           “I urge you to leave now. You will not be harmed.”

           “We could take the queen with us. Disguised as a sister.” Aramis strode across the room to look out the windows.

           “If she’s recognized outside we can’t protect her.”

           “The queen stays with us.” The abbess nodded and turned to her people.

           “Anyone who wishes to leave may go now. With my blessing.” When none of the nuns moved except to sit down Athos sighed internally. He did not need more people to keep safe. “It seems we are all at your service.” The queen stepped forward.

           “Your loyalty will not be forgotten.” As the queen smiled at the nuns, Athos approached the abbess.

           “We need to barricade the gate.”

           “You can use tables from the refectory.” She gestured and a few of the nuns went to move the tables.

           “And establish two lookout points, each with a clear sight of anyone approaching.”

           “My bedroom and the sacristy are best.” Aramis approached the abbess.

           “You don’t happen to have any weapons here.” He glanced at one of the nuns who looked familiar.

           “One musket. And some charges.” At Athos’ unspoken question she smiled slightly. “For shooting rabbits. And protestants.” Athos tried not to laugh. The nun that Aramis had been eyeing chose that moment to speak up.

           “There is something else we could use. I can show Aramis.” Aramis followed the nun out of the room. The queen approached the abbess.

           “Let me help you.”

 

* * *

 

 

           The nun descended down into one of the basement areas. Aramis followed her without questioning. When they entered he found the place full of stoppered bottles.

           “You sell this.”

           “Saving souls isn’t cheap.”

           “My father had a still just like this.” He ran fingers over it. “He made grape and honey brandy all the time. May I?” She nodded and he poured a small amount into a ladle. “It’s exactly like my father’s.”

           “Probably because I use his recipe.” Aramis looked at the nun again. Really looked at her this time. He imagined her without her simple dress and head covering. “You still don’t recognize me, do you, Aramis?” He walked over to her and brushed aside the edge of her head covering.

           “Isabelle?”

           “Isabelle is gone. Now I am Sister Helen.” When he didn’t say anything she began gathering bottles. “I thought you could light the bottles with cloth and throw them. It will be gruesome but effective.”

           “What are you doing here?”

           “I’m a nun this is a convent.”

           “No, I mean….”

           “Aramis.” The queen’s voice drifted down the steps as she walked into the room. “Athos needs you.”

           “You should go.” He turned and walked out of the room. The queen approached Helen and took some bottles. “Thank you.”

           Aramis walked upstairs to see Athos. He was in the sacristy looking out the windows.

           “You’ll stay up here. I’ll take the other room.” Aramis checked his gun as Athos turned as saw his face. “Do say if you’re not happy.”

           “No. No. I’m happy.” He handed the gun he knew was ok to Athos who took it. “Or as happy as any man in our predicament can be.”

           “If it’s any consolation Mother Superior is next door praying for our immortal souls.”

           “Right now it’s my mortal body I’m worried about.” Athos moved into the next room as Aramis propped a bench against the window to give him more cover and punched through the glass with his gun.

           “Here.” The queen walked into the room and opened his powder pouch. She began placing the wrapped charges into it. “That nun, the one you were with downstairs, I’m sorry. My arrival was a disturbance.”

           “You did not disturb anything.”

           “I may be cosseted but I’m not a fool.”

           “I knew her. Once. We were to marry.”

           “And you changed your mind?”

           “She fell pregnant, and the marriage was arranged. I was happy. I was in love. So was she. But then she lost the child and her father took her away and put her in here. I never saw her again. Not until today.” Athos barged into the room.

           “I think they’re about to,” A shot rang as it punched through the glass. Aramis pulled the queen down to cover. “Attack.” He took the queen and pulled her out of the room. “Come with me into the chapel.” Aramis could hear shots ringing as they hit the stone and glass. He took aim and shot one of the men in the trees. He reloaded and shot again, this time hitting on of the men climbing down the rocks to try to reach the convent.

           “My parents always hoped I’d end up in a place like this.” Aramis voice echoed over to Athos.

           “They wanted you to become a nun?” Aramis chuckled.

           “A priest.” Athos moved to his window and crouched below it. He waved a hand and the man watching the window shot. Athos stood and shot the man in turn.

           “Why didn’t you?”

           “Because I found I was better at dispatching people to hell.” The nuns sat and prayed with the queen as the battle raged around them. One of the statues had its head shot off and the abbess decided that she had enough.

           “Mother of God. Helen, come with me.” They went and gathered the bottles, stuffing rags into them. They ran onto the wall and began to throw them onto the men below. More nuns joined them with another basket. One nun chopped the rope attached to a grappling hook. Another pair hoisted one of the bee’s nests along the wall and threw it down. Aramis and Athos took advantage of the lull in shooting and began to try to shoot the leader. They heard a whistling and watched the men retreat.

 

* * *

 

 

           Porthos, Treville, and d’Artagnan approached the money lender’s on horseback. When they opened the door they found the place empty. It was Porthos who found the money lender. He had been attached to the door via daggers. They began looking for some type of record of the note.

           “Can either of you smell jasmine?” D’Artagnan moved to the door. When it became apparent that she was being ignored she ventured out. She walked into the other room and was about to search it when she heard Treville say that he had found the account ledger. D’Artagnan debated the merits of ignoring Treville in favor of searching the room but ultimately turned and left. Behind the door, Milady silently slid the dagger she had been hiding back into its sheath.

           “This is his ledger. The entry for the note says it was purchased in gold by the German count Danial Melendorf. Melendorf and his daughter are hunting with the king. The beneficiary of the note didn’t sign his name. But he left a mark.” In the ledger was the same tattoo Porthos and d’Artagnan had seen in red ink.

           “We’ve seen that before.”

           “Tattoo on the hand of one of the assassins.”

           “It’s the mark of Hugh O’Neil. A Catholic Chieftain who was exiled from Ireland and had his land taken. The men bearing this mark were his private guard.”

           “Soldiers?” D’Artagnan strained her ears. She thought she heard footsteps.

           “Much more than just soldiers. More like musketeers.” Both D’Artagnan and Porthos wavered.

           “We need to get back to the convent as soon as possible.”

           “We can’t wait for the regiment.” D’Artagnan watched a mirror. When she saw skirts he held out a hand and turned out the door. Porthos followed her while Treville ripped the page out of the ledger.

           “What is it?” D’Artagnan had her gun raised as she left the house.

           “Someone was there. I smelled her scent.” She lowered the gun when she didn’t see anyone.

           “Her?”

           “It was a woman. I’m sure of it.”

           “I didn’t see anyone.”

           “She was there.” Treville pulled himself onto his horse.

           “We don’t have time to search for her now. The queen’s life’s at stake.” They all mounted and rode back to the garrison. Treville headed for the cardinal again to give him the news and to tell him to send the regiment after them.

 

* * *

 

 

           Aramis was waiting in the window for the next attack when Sister Helen came in with a basket of cloth stuffed bottles.

           “It’s very quiet. Perhaps prayer has driven them away.”

           “More likely they are devising a new plan of attack. One that won’t cost them so many men.” She held up two bottles.

           “These will help keep them at bay.” He moved over to the basket and helped her carry the bottles over to his window.

           “I searched for you. For months. I never forgot you. What we had together.”

           “What did we have?”

           “A life, waiting to be lived.”

           “That isn’t how I recall it. I remember a young man being forced to marry a girl he seduced and made pregnant.”

           “Not true.”

           “No doubt a little part of him was relieved when the baby was gone and he didn’t have to marry. You were never meant for marriage Aramis. That was clear even then. You wouldn’t have been happy.”

           “With you, I would.” She reached up and brushed his hair aside to reveal the bruise that had been sucked on his neck.

           “You and I, somewhere in the country. Children at our feet. Without the excitement and adventure you crave. I cannot see it. I doubt the one who gave you that bruise can either. She will never willingly tie you down. Can you see yourself without that adventure you crave?”

           “Yes.” She made a huffing noise and shook her head.

           “No, you can’t.” She walked passed him. “You should tell her about me if you wish to. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

           “Your father robbed us of a life together when he stole you away. I begged him to tell me where you were but he refused.”

           “Because I asked him not to. He didn’t put me here. It was my choice. It was the right thing to do. Look at us now. We’ve both found our true vocation. Mine to God and yours to the sword. We would have made each other miserable. Believe me. I acted out of kindness.” She brushed passed him and left. He stood in shock in the doorway. Turning he went back to the window. After a few minutes of contemplation, he turned and went after her. He found her being held in the cellar by two men. She pulled out a knife and stabbed the man holding her.

           “Aramis.” The man with the gun turned and shot her.

           “Isabelle.” He shot the man and ran to her side. “I’m sorry.”

           “We will see each other again in heaven. Of that I am certain. But not too soon I hope.”

           “No. Isabelle. Isabelle. No.” He pressed his forehead to hers.

           “Just two of them?” He had heard Athos’ quiet steps and appreciated the man making some noise so as not to spook him into shooting. He whipped his eyes and stood.

           “Yes.” The nuns gathered around Helen’s body as Athos took a look at the hole.

           “We’d better close that up.” They watched as the abbess closed Helen’s eyes with a prayer. The queen looked at him as the nuns carried Helen’s body to the small chapel. Athos gathered two of the nuns and went to search the tunnels for any more broken areas. The queen went up to the room she had been assigned and lay down. She got to her feet as the banging kept up and walked to the end of the bed. She could see Aramis with his head in his hands in the chapel.

           “What are the building?”

           “Battering ram perhaps. Or a ladder.” The two sat in silence for a while. Aramis dropped his head into his hands again and ran his fingers through his hair. He wished d’Artagnan was here. She would know how to comfort him. She would look at him for a while and then settle into his lap, hugging him tight. What happened after happened. He heard the queen get up and walk over to the door.

           “A few years after I married I too fell pregnant. It was perfect. I could feel my child inside me, moving and kicking. I had his whole life planned out. What he would do, be like. And then, I lost the baby.” She pulled away from the door and walked to him. “Six years and I have never forgotten that child. Not for a single day. I am certain that Sister Helen never forgot you.” When Aramis looked away she continued. “Or your baby.”

           “All these years I believe that Isabelle was the only woman who could make me happy.” He mentally added ‘And then I met d’Artagnan.’ “She was right. It was a lie.”

           “You’re grieving.” The queen took a step forward.

           “She knew me better than I know myself. She was right to stay away from me.”

           “No Aramis.” The queen kneeled in front of him. “You are brave and honorable, and kind. Any woman would be fortunate to be loved by you.” Aramis looked at her and noticed how close their faces were. He felt her tug on his shirt and gave in to the temptation. Leaning in he kissed her. In the back of his mind, he thought of d’Artagnan and pushed the thought aside. She wasn’t here. She had forgiven Porthos for his indiscretions easily enough. She would forgive him in time. He let the queen slide the musket off his lap and lead him to her bedroom.

 

* * *

 

 

           “You really think this will work?” D’Artagnan stood at her horse watching as Porthos adjusted the uniforms on their conscripts. They had dressed up Serge, Florian, and Jacques in uniforms to pass them off as a company of musketeers.

           “All they’ll see is the uniform. Not who’s wearing it.” Treville looked over the men. “Don’t know what they’ll do to the enemy. They frighten the life out of me.” He watched Porthos pull hay out of Jacques’ hair.

           “You know with respect sir, you sure you can ride with that shoulder?” Treville got in her face and she tried not to flinch.

           “Are you going to stop me?” D’Artagnan shook her head slightly and went to her horse. Porthos finished handing out weapons and mounted. They rode hard for the convent. They rode through the night and Porthos was getting agitated about their pace.

           “Come on!”

 

* * *

 

 

           Aramis lay in the bed with the queen covered only in the sheet. She was resting her head on his chest. Looking at her, all he could think about was d’Artagnan. If she didn’t kill him for this Porthos and Athos will. He heard quiet footsteps and saw Athos in the doorway. He sighed and lay his head back. Shaking the queen slightly, he woke her up and helped her to dress. He walked through the chapel to find Athos after he was dressed.

           “I still can’t see what they were building.”

           “They could be tunneling. About what you saw…”

           “I saw nothing. Because I’ve been in here all morning and I couldn’t possibly see anything.” Aramis plucked the spyglass out of Athos’ hand and went to the window. If Athos was going to do it this way he wasn’t complaining. He had a feeling that Athos would yell at him as soon as he could, however.

           “No, these walls are to think. The garrison would be here by then.”

           “I can’t believe you slept with the queen.” Apparently the time was now.

           “I thought you didn’t see anything.”

           “They’ll hang you. And then they’ll hand me for letting it happen. Do you want to do that to d’Artagnan?”

           “More chance we’ll be killed here and we’ll take it with us to the grave.”

           “That’s a comfort. We cannot tell them.” They both knew them meant Porthos and d’Artagnan.

           “So you’re good?”

           “Not nearly.”

           “I should get back.”

           “Shout if you need me.”

           “Why would I need you?” Athos shook his head. Aramis entered the room he had left the queen in. “Your majesty should probably wait with the nuns.”

           “I want to stay here. Help you.”

           “Your majesty I don’t think…”

           “I am the queen and this is my decision. Beside surely I am safer with you than in the hands of unarmed nuns.” He smiled slightly and inclined his head in her direction. The abbess got up and went to join Athos.

           “Whenever I hear the sound of hammering I am reminded of Saint Joseph, patron saint of carpentry.”

           “I doubt they are building anything a saint would approve of.”

           “This is my convent. And I’m going to defend it. So if there’s anything more I can do to help. Anything.” Aramis glanced at the pistol on the table.

           “Can you load a pistol?” He handed the weapon to her.

           “Blessed be the lord, my God,” She properly loaded it, “Who teaches my hands to fight,” she dropped the bullet in, “and my fingers to battle.” Athos nodded in approval.

           “You load. I’ll fire.”

           “Simplicity. The essence of any good plan.” She walked over to the window. The gun in her hand listed towards Athos and he gently adjusted it so that it wasn’t pointing at him. He spotted men with torches and no guns drawn and popped up to see better. He watched them move around the edge of the convent.

           “They were tunneling. ARAMIS!” He ran into the other room. “They’re getting in below us. We have to get the queen to some place we can defend her.”

           “There’s a storeroom in the cellar. Only one way in.”

           “Perfect. Quickly.” The abbess led them away. Athos saw shadows as they descended and took the abbesses’ arm. “Wait.” He checked around the corner and saw more shadows. As the men popped around the corner, he and Aramis shot them. “You take the queen.”

           “Which way?” The abbess pointed.

           “Go.” Athos lay down cover fire as Aramis pulled the queen across the corridor and towards the store room. “I’ll take care of this.” He handed the pistols he had grabbed from Aramis back and drew his sword. He engaged the men as Aramis ran after the queen and the abbess. He heard a bang behind them and knew that Aramis was making cover for himself to shoot from. Athos used the man he was engaging as a body shield as other men ran down the stairs and shot. He dropped the now dead man and ran back towards the store room. He rolled over the table as Aramis shot. They both grabbed loaded pistols and Aramis handed off the one he had used to be reloaded. He could tell that the men had pushed themselves against the wall for cover. The men began to dodge out of cover to draw their fire. They both tried to shoot as many as they could.

           “I’m out.” Aramis looked at Athos with his fingers in his charge pouch. “How many shots do we have left?” Athos held out the two balls and Aramis sighed. “There are at least four of them still out there.” They split the munitions between the two of them. They heard a quiet order and a dagger being thrown in an attempt to get them to shoot.

           “Did I mention this has to count?”

           “Thanks for the reminder.” A man edged out and Aramis shot him in the chest.

           “Did you get him?”

           “Athos, please.” Athos looked at his pistol.

           “Our last shot.”

           “If I ever complain about an assignment not being exciting enough…”

           “I’ll punch you so hard you’ll beg me to kick you.”

           “I was going to say remind me of this moment but that works too.”

 

* * *

 

 

           They rode into the convent gates. The nuns had seen them coming and they opened the gates as they rode up. They threw themselves from the saddle, swords unsheathed and ran in the direction the nuns were pointing. As they ran down the stairs, Treville shot at the lookout. The lookout dodged.

           “MUSKETEERS!” Athos and Aramis heard the yell and glanced at each other. They heard a barrel roll down the stairs and realized that it was Porthos. Only Porthos would throw a barrel down the stairs.

           Serge barreled down the stairs and around the corner despite Porthos trying to grab him. Treville and d’Artagnan instantly followed and shot. Porthos saw the man coming and shot him in the groin.

           Athos saw the leader leave and moved to follow him. Aramis stood as well as Athos unsheathed his sword. He stayed with the queen as Athos followed nearly silently through the tunnels. Aramis heard footsteps and drew his sword.

           “ATHOS! ARAMIS!” Porthos came around the corner

           “In here.” Aramis sheathed his sword. He saw Treville and D’Artagnan as they came around the corner. He looked at d’Artagnan and looked away guiltily.

           “Everyone alive?” Treville didn’t lower his weapon.

           “Why wouldn’t we be?” The queen came to stand at his side.

           “Your majesty.” They all bowed. “Thank God. Where’s Athos?”

           “Following the leader.”

 

* * *

 

 

           Athos had caught up with him. He let the gun prime. The man slowed and stopped.

           “Tell me who hired you and I’ll spare you the hangman’s noose.” He approached carefully.

           “What kind of soldier would I be if I broke a confidence like that?”

           “One who’s not ready to die yet.” The man reached for one of the pistols. “Don’t.” He drew and Athos fired. Athos approached the man who was leaning against the wall. He lowered his sword and fetched one of the nuns for the last rites. The five of them stood with Treville.

           “It seems Count Mellendorf hired them to kill the queen so his daughter could marry the king.”

           “You have evidence of this?”

           “His name is on the ledger.” D’Artagnan didn’t believe it at all.

           “And he’s openly seeking a husband for his daughter.” Aramis walked to where Porthos was guarding the queen.

           “This Gallagher was exiled from his land for being Catholic, his lands stolen and given to followers of a rival faith. You’d think after that he’d have a healthy dislike of all things Protestant. I know I would.” Porthos nodded.

           “It’s weird that he would agree to kill our Catholic queen and allow a German Protestant to take her place on the throne. That doesn’t feel right.”

           “He’s a mercenary.” D’Artagnan had no mercy for the man. He had nearly killed her queen. The nun approached him.

           “Before he passed away Monsieur Gallagher said there was money in his saddle bags to pay for the repair of the convent.” The five of them went to search his saddlebags. They found the box with some coins in it. Aramis handed it to Treville.

           “That’s all there is.”

           “Nothing else?” They shook their heads. Athos looked at the box they were holding to see the forget-me-not pinned inside.

           “Aramis is right. This isn’t the work of Mellendorf. It’s something much bigger. That flower is the signature of a woman who works for the cardinal.” Athos walked away. The musketeer escorted the queen back to the palace and waited while she dressed. They followed her into the room along with three of her ladies. They saw the king move to go to her as the queen and her ladies curtsied. He stopped himself.

           “Your majesty.” He went to her when she rose and kissed her hands.

           “I thought you were dead. And I could not countenance such a thing.”

           “It’s good to be home.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. They turned to face the musketeers.

           “We should confront him now.” Aramis’ whisper carried only to his brothers-in-arms.

           “Not here and not until we are certain.” Treville turned to speak over his shoulder. This woman you suspect, who is she?”

           “She’s the most dangerous person I’ve ever known. She won’t be easy to find.” They watched as the cardinal addressed the queen. They all clapped as the cardinal announced that Mellendorf had signed a confession. The queen was slow to join as she looked at the musketeers. She took the king’s hand and let him lead her out of the room.

           “So that’s it?” We know he’s behind this. We let him stand there, the man of the hour?” Aramis stepped forward and Treville blocked him.

           “This isn’t over yet.” Athos watched them leave. He approached the cardinal. “Your Eminence, may I congratulate you on capturing the culprit. I don’t believe Mellendorf acted alone. The assassins were hired by a woman. Perhaps the woman who killed the money lender. Be assured, I will not rest until she is brought to justice.”

           “Excellent. Forgive me. I’m late for mass.”

           “Her and whoever she works for.” He left the room.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan couldn’t figure it out. Three nights in a row Athos had dragged Aramis out with him and neither had been seen until the next day. Porthos hadn’t known what was going on when she asked him. After a week of them avoiding her, she cornered Athos in the stables.

           “Care to tell me what the hell is going on? As much as I appreciate Porthos I do want to spend time with you two as well.”

           “Little wren nothing is going on.” She glared up at Athos as he fell back onto his noble speech patterns instead of the speech patterns he normally spoke.

           “Athos I can tell when you are lying.” He let out a long suffering sigh and cupped her face, pulling her in for a gentle kiss. A cough came from a corner of the stables and the two of them jumped apart.

           “Don’t stop on my behalf.” Aramis slid out of his corner and walked over to her. He ran a hand over her cheek. Athos slapped the hand away.

           “You don’t deserve to touch her.”

           “I slept with one person in that convent Athos. She forgave Porthos for sleeping with Alice.”

           “YOU SLEPT WITH A NUN?!” The men winced at d’Artagnan’s screech and Athos pulled her into a kiss to prevent any more outbursts. When he pulled away he pulled her to fit against his side.

           “Love if I had known I would have stopped him. I’ve been keeping him away from you because he doesn’t deserve your love right now.”

           “He is banned from my bed until I see so.” She relaxed into his grip finally and he kissed the top of her head. “You come back, please. It’s cold without someone on the other side of me at night.”

           “Of course little wren.”


	10. Chapter 10

           Athos was not nearly drunk enough for this. He was nursing the third bottle of wine he had that night and it was nearly empty. He had his pistol tucked against his side and he was shadowing Anne. He saw his opportunity and took one more swig of the wine bottle. Tossing it to the side he pulled his gun and approached Anne. He disarmed her and wrapped an arm around her neck, pushing the end of his pistol against her head. He pressed his face to her hair to hide his smirk. Porthos who was following him took off towards the garrison.

           “It’s time to pay for your crimes, Milady.” He watched Porthos go out of the corner of his eye. Aramis was sitting at the table and d’Artagnan was sitting on the table cutting up an apple.

           “How many times have you cleaned those pistols tonight?” D’Artagnan could tell Aramis was nervous.

           “Respect your weapon and it will respect you. Another thing you will need to learn in order to be a good musketeer.”

           “Just so I know, this whole d’Artagnan the apprentice musketeer, how long will it last?”

           “Well as long as it’s funny.” They heard running feet and looked up. Above then they heard Treville come out of his office. Porthos ran into the yard.

           “Athos, he’s taken a woman hostage. He’s threatening to kill her.” They got up quickly and grabbed the remainder of their gear. They followed Porthos to where Athos was. They pushed through the growing crowd and skidded to a stop.

           “Athos!” Aramis held out his hands in a pacifying gesture. Porthos approached him slowly.

           “Athos. Let her go.”

           “She is a liar and a murderer. And she is the cardinal’s spy.” He looked at d’Artagnan briefly. “And she is my wife.” Porthos and Aramis looked at each other in shock. D’Artagnan just kept her eyes on Athos. She had figured it out after the incident with the burning building.

           “Athos my friend, you’re drunk. Just release her and we can talk.”

           “D’Artagnan help me. He’s gone mad.” The other two men looked at d’Artagnan in fake shock. They knew she was her patron. That’s why they had chosen her to go with Milady.

           “You know her?” Athos clenched his hand around Milady’s throat more. When she didn’t answer Aramis continued on with the script.

           “So she’s your mysterious benefactor. Are you lovers too?”

           “Once. Before I knew you.”

           “You slept with her?” Porthos gestured to the woman caught in Athos’ grip.

           “You don’t understand.” Porthos stepped forward and shoved her with enough force to push her back a few steps.

           “You kept the truth from me.”

           “No. Athos I swear I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

           “Well, now you must choose d’Artagnan. If you help her you’re not fit to call yourself a musketeer.”

           “I can’t let you murder her.”

           “D’Artagnan help me.” Athos pulled his pistol away from her head and pointed it at d’Artagnan. Aramis raised his hands in shock and Porthos began pulling d’Artagnan away.

           “HEY LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS ATHOS! PUT IT DOWN!” Aramis stepped between Athos and d’Artagnan.

           “Stop this at once. That is an order.” Treville marched up and Athos swung the gun to point at him. D’Artagnan took her chance and rushed forward. The gun went off and d’Artagnan clutched her side, not her arm. Porthos stepped forward and shoved Athos back. Milady stood in shock. The three men helped lower d’Artagnan to the ground. Athos stood in shock as well. He had aimed for her arm, not her side. He could hear Porthos muttering for d’Artagnan to stay awake. Milady moved to stand over them in case they needed assistance.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan touched the bandages on her ribs. It hurt but she reached for her shirt and corset. She was in Milady’s rooms, everything having gone according to plan. As she was struggling to lace the corset Milady came in with a gun.

           “I could blow your brains out now and never think of you again.”

           “I’m guessing you didn’t bring me here to shot me.”

           “The question is, can I trust you.”

           “I saved your life.” She lowered the gun and reached for the laces of the corset.

           “This will hurt. The shot grazed you ribs.” She did up the laces until d’Artagnan was almost completely flat. “A few inches to the right and Athos would have killed you.”

           “It was an accident.”

           “Was it?”

           “Yes.” She tugged her shirt over her head.

           “You saw the look on his face when you lied about how we first met. They hated you. They all did. Your so called friends. They don’t know you’re female do they?” She began to walk around the room. “They left you to bleed to death in the square.” D’Artagnan’s memories were faint but she remember Porthos trying to keep her awake and then Athos grabbing him and Aramis and dragging them off.

           “Why didn’t you tell me you were his wife?”

           “Never came up. The cardinal is my patron and protector. He could be yours too.”

           “I hate the cardinal.” She moved to sit on the bed.

           “That’s childish talk. Cut your losses d’Artagnan. There is no future for you in the musketeers.”

           “I don’t believe that.” Milady pulled her in for a hug and settled next to her.

           “Believe that then. I want you safe d’Artagnan. I want you to be able to be who you really are Not this male persona you put on. We woman can fight in different ways.”

           “The last time I looked to you for advice, you murdered a man and blamed me for it.”

           “Promise I haven’t murdered anyone yet today.”

           “Tell me what really happened between you and Athos.” Milady sat on the bed next to d’Artagnan.

           “I was born poor. I was a thief and a pickpocket. But everything changed when I married Athos. I lied about my past to protect our happiness. But his brother, Thomas, was mad with desire for me. He tried to force me. I had no choice. I killed him. But I did it for love. Athos was blind to the truth. Because he discovered I was once a thief, he decided I must also be a murderer.” She reached up and untied the choker around her throat to reveal the scar. “This is what he did to preserve his honor and status.” She touched the scar with wavering fingertips. “You once said you would help me with anything if I helped you.”

           “You want me to kill Athos.”

           “You don’t know him as I do. He will never forgive you for helping me and he will never forgive you for keeping your true gender a secret from him.”

           “I won’t murder my best friend.” A knocking rang at the door. Milady picked up her gun and opened it to reveal Treville. D’Artagnan braced herself for the farce that was about to happen.

           “Madame. I’ve come to see d’Artagnan. This won’t take long.” Milady stepped to the side and let Treville enter.

           “What do you want captain?” She watched Treville take a steadying breath.

           “Athos has made it clear that he can never serve at your side again. I cannot allow such dissent within the ranks. I’m sorry but your future lies elsewhere.”

           “What?”

           “Resign your commission quickly and I’ll see no dishonor is attached to your name.” D’Artagnan pushed herself to her feet with force.

           “NO! I don’t deserve this. What have I done wrong?”

           “I have not come here to judge you. I simply have to make a choice and Athos is the finest soldier in the regiment. I choose him. There is nothing more to be said.” He turned and left. D’Artagnan collapsed to the floor in tears. Milady closed the door and came to wrap an arm around her shoulders. When d’Artagnan had finished crying she wiped the remaining tears with a handkerchief.

           “You were right about him. I should have listened. Be in the town square at midday. You’ll get what you want.” She splashed cold water on her face and left.

 

* * *

 

 

           Constance ran into the garrison. She had heard that d’Artagnan got shot and she knew that the men wouldn’t have left her friend’s side. Yet when she had arrived at Porthos’ rooms, the rooms were dark. She looked around the garrison courtyard until she spotted Aramis and Porthos.

           “Where is he? Where is d’Artagnan?” Porthos looked at her and shook his head.

           “He’s not here.”

           “Tell me he isn’t dead.” Aramis glanced away from her gaze.

           “There’s been no news since last night.”

           “Why would he fight with Athos?”

           “It was over a woman.” At her look, Porthos spluttered slightly.

           “Milady de Winter. This is my fault. I drove him into her arms.” Aramis reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

           “Constance, why don’t you go home. If we hear anything we’ll let you know.” He led her through the gate and pulled her aside briefly. “She’s fine and with Milady de Winters. It’s all according to plan. Now please continue to look like you’re utterly miserable and go home.”

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan made her way to the garrison. Two musketeers exiting turned to watch her enter. Porthos got up from his bench. He could see the way d’Artagnan favored her side and wanted to go to her and hold her until she healed but he shoved down the urge.

           “Well, well, well.” The other musketeers stopped their sparring to watch. “Where have you been?”

           “In bed. Injured.”

           “You weren’t alone I think.” Aramis looked at the wine in his tankard and wished he was drunker. “How is Madame de la Chappelle? Or is it Milady de Winter. I lose track.”

           “She was well the last time I saw her. No thanks to her loving husband.”

           “I see you’ve risen from the grave.” Athos came in from behind her and circled around to see her face. He too saw the way she held herself to avoid putting pressure on her wound.

           “You mean you failed to kill me.”

           “What are you doing here?” They all turned to see Treville outside his office.

           “I am still a musketeer no matter what Athos may wish.”

           “We’ll settle this. In private.” They all went up to the office.

           “So you’re not dead. Athos was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room from d’Artagnan.

           “And you’re not drunk. I would have thought you would be since you shot me in the side instead of the arm.” The tension around them broke and Aramis and Porthos pulled her in for a hug. Athos joined them, smiling. She winced when Porthos patted her side. “Careful I’m wounded remember.”

           “Sorry is it bad?”

           “Bad enough. You were supposed to shot me in the arm Athos.”

           “A shot to the side is so much more authentic.” D’Artagnan knocked aside Aramis’ hands as he tried to lift her shirt and get a look at the wound. Athos glared at her and she sighed. Slipping out of her doublet, she raised the shirt to right below her corset and let Aramis unwrap the bandages.

           “You claim you didn’t aim there intentionally.” Porthos moved to brace her as Aramis’ long, skilled fingers probed the wound. He caught her effortlessly as her knees buckled from the pain.

           “Accuracy is hard after three bottles of wine. I was also shaking too hard to aim.”

           “That part was genuine at least.” Porthos carried her to Treville’s bed and gently laid her down. Aramis followed with water and cloths to clean the wound again. He tittered over the stitching and rested a hand on her stomach.

           “I want to restitch this. It’s shoddily done.”

           “No Aramis. I’m fine.” Athos rested a hand on her shoulder as she tried to rise and pressed a bottle of wine into her hand. She took a gulp and let Porthos press her to the bed. Athos moved to grip her legs and Aramis pressed a piece of leather between her teeth. She bit on it to keep from screaming as he unpicked the stitches, fighting the grip of Porthos and Athos. She passed out before it had finished and woke to Treville wiping the sweat from her brow.

           “D’Artagnan, does Milady believe we abandoned you?” She struggled to sit up and Treville helped her. Hands pressed a cup of water to her lips. She sipped and smiled at Athos.

           “Almost. There’s just one tiny detail left that I need to convince her.”

           “What’s that?” Athos placed the cup to the side.

           “Nothing too difficult. I just need to kill you.” They shared a look and then Athos threw the cup at the wall. He continued to make noise while the other four came up with a plan. D’Artagnan quickly pulled on her doublet and began a shouting match with Athos. She stormed out of the office and out of the gates.

 

* * *

 

 

           It was midday. D’Artagnan strode through the square. She could see the other three at the far end of the square and braced herself for what was to come.

           “ATHOS!” The three men looked at each other and put down their tankards.

           “What do you want?”

           “An apology for the way you’ve treated me.”

           “Or what?”

           “Or,” She began peeling off one of her gloves, “We’ll settle this like gentlemen.” Holding the glove she lashed out, striking Athos across the face. Aramis and Porthos grabbed Athos to keep him from lunging at her. Porthos let go of Athos and dragged d’Artagnan back.

           “That’s enough.”

           “I know what you did to your wife Athos. I know you’re true character. You disgust me.” Athos lunged forward again and Aramis caught him. “You’ll hear from my seconds.”

           “This must be done properly according to the rules.” Aramis kept himself between Athos and d’Artagnan to keep from laughing.

           “Forget the rules.” Athos pulled his gun and fired above d’Artagnan’s head. Aramis shouted a warning and d’Artagnan dropped. D’Artagnan in turned fired just to Athos’ side. Athos lurched like he had been hit and dropped. Porthos dropped to his side and poured the blood over Athos’ jacket.

           “He’s dead. You murdered him.” D’Artagnan began to run as Aramis got to his feet.

           “Come back here you coward.”  D’Artagnan made her way back to Milady’s rooms and stayed there until the woman returned. Milady stood by the window looking out.

           “I thought I would feel more than this. This emptiness. I loved him once.” She turned to face d’Artagnan. “Are you sorry you killed him?”

           “Regrets are pointless. Its help I need now. Aramis and Porthos will never forgive this. They’ll want revenge.”

           “I thought you were like Athos. But I was wrong. He had greatness in him. He would not be frightened.”

           “I am not frightened. Just practical. They are both bigger and stronger than me. If they catch me my death at their hands will be inevitable and then my true identity will be revealed. There’s only one man who can help me stay alive and I need to see him now.”

           “You could leave this life. Dress as a girl again and go home with no one the wiser.”

           “You are a woman and a fighter. Why should I settle for anything less?” Milady took her hand and led her to the bed where she sat and pulled d’Artagnan to sit next to her.

           “Well perhaps you aren’t Athos but with the cardinal’s help, I can still make something of you. He’ll be expecting us by now.” She reached out and straightened d’Artagnan’s doublet and shirt, making sure that the small bulge of her breasts was hidden completely. D’Artagnan followed her out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan stood at attention before the cardinal. She tried not to make faces at his words and succeeded.

           “Musketeers slaughtering each other in the public square. Shocking. Something really must be done. And spare a thought for the victim’s grieving widow.” Milady didn’t succeed in hiding her eye roll. “What must she be feeling now?”

           “Aramis and Porthos will be looking for me. I need your protection.”

           “Protection? Protection!” He laughed. “The penalty for dueling is death. You will be hanged at dawn. Two dead musketeers for the price of one. An excellent bargain.” D’Artagnan pulled her dagger and moved behind Milady, pressing the knife to her neck.

           “Touch me and she dies.”

           “Well do try not to get blood everywhere.”

           “He’s testing you d’Artagnan.” Milady didn’t fight. If need be, she would continue to be d’Artagnan’s hostage until they could get out.

           “I assure you I am not. There was a time when you might have been useful to me. What service could you offer me now?”

           “You know Treville has a letter signed by the assassin Gallagher. It implicates you in the attempted murder of the queen. I can get it for you.” The guards backed off at the cardinal’s gesture and D’Artagnan released Milady, pushing her out of the way.

           “Why hasn’t Treville produced it already?”

           “He’s waiting to condemn you at Mellendorf’s trial in front of the king. That way no one can suppress the evidence.” The cardinal glanced at Milady.

           “Tell me you weren’t foolish enough to mention my name to Gallagher?” At her silence, he turned his attention back to d’Artagnan. “How would you obtain it?”

           “Use me as bait. Tell Aramis and Porthos you’ll hand me over in exchange for the letter.”

           “Why should I do that when their intention is to destroy me?”

           “No no no. This is personal now. I killed their friend their code of honor demands my death.” She slapped the shoulder piece she wore. “Believe me, I know how they think.”

           “What about Treville? He would never allow it.”

           “Treville would never need to know. Aramis knows where the letter is kept.”

           “Is he right about them?”

           “They loved Athos. They would do anything to avenge his death.” At her words, the cardinal once again turned his attention to d’Artagnan.

           “And what do you want in return?”

           “Your guarantee of my safety. And a commission in the red guards.” She watched as the cardinal conferred with a guard and then sent him to give Aramis a message.

 

* * *

 

 

           Porthos and Aramis watched from behind Treville as musketeers lowered a coffin into the grave. They both knew that it was all a plot to reveal the cardinal’s crimes but they couldn’t help feeling slightly sad.

           “Today we bury a fallen comrade and brother. Athos was a loyal friend and a fine warrior.” Porthos glanced at Aramis and smirked.

           “Great.” At Treville’s look, Porthos continued. “He was a great warrior.”

           “A great warrior.” Aramis chimed in as well, cutting Treville off.

           “And a brilliant swordsman.” Treville rolled his eyes at their antics and continued.

           “A great warrior and a brilliant swordsman.”

           “He’d like that.” Porthos glanced at Aramis who nodded.

           “His death was a tragic waste.”

           “He was considered handsome.” Aramis decided to continue the joke.

           “He was more rugged I’d say.”

           “Well, I’d suppose it’s in the eye of the beholder.” Treville turned to look at the fully.

           “May I continue?” They nodded and he turned away. “His death was a tragic waste.” Treville continued to speak and Aramis and Porthos drew closer together.

           “Was a funeral strictly necessary?” Aramis glanced around at Porthos’ words to make sure no one could hear them.

           “Milady might be watching. We had to make it convincing.”

           “It’s very emotional.” Aramis reached out a hand and rested it on his friend’s shoulder.

           “There, there. He’s not actually dead.”

           “Still it’s the thought of it, you know.” The two of them wondered off to a tavern after the funeral. They took a table next to a man dressed in plain, dark clothes with a hat pulled over his face.

           “How was my funeral?” Athos kept his head low as the two sat down with their backs to him.

           “The captain had some very nice things to say about you.”

           “Porthos even shed a few tears.”

           “I’m very sorry to have missed it. Any news from d’Artagnan?”

           “Not since she killed you.” They both looked up as Constance’s husband entered and came towards them. Athos, in contrast, lowered his head and took a sip from his tankard.

           “Where is she? Is he hiding her somewhere? I know what you musketeers are like.”

           “What are you talking about Monsieur?”

           “Madame Bonacieux left my house yesterday afternoon. I know she’s eloped with that wretch d’Artagnan.” Porthos chuckled at the thought of the two best friends eloping. “I’ll challenge him. I have no choice.” Porthos rose to his feet, towering over the other man.

           “Calm down. Now tell us exactly what happened.”

           “I already have. She disappeared and hasn’t returned.”

           “Well, she’s not with d’Artagnan. I can assure you that.”

           “A respectable woman doesn’t just disappear in broad daylight.” When neither of them reacted he stomped off, muttering under his breath. Porthos looked at Aramis who rested his head in his hand.

           “If Constance has been missing all night she might be in danger.

           “D’Artagnan can’t know about this. Not now. It will only distract her.”

           “You know she’s her closest friend.”

           “All the more reason to keep it from her. One lapse in concentration might cost her life.”

           “What about Constance’s?” They looked up as the door opened and a man handed Aramis a note.

           “The cardinal has d’Artagnan. He will hand her over in exchange for Gallagher’s note letter.” Aramis got up and left. Porthos looked the note over then looked at Athos.

           “Find Constance.” The two mounted and rode to the meeting place. They found the cardinal easily enough and saw d’Artagnan being held by two guards.

           “You murderer.” Aramis pushed past the guards trying to keep him from d’Artagnan. D’Artagnan surged forward.

           “It was a duel.”

           “You shot him in cold blood.”

           “Entertaining as this is, perhaps we should get to business. Just give me the letter. Then you can do what you want with d’Artagnan. Aramis held out the letter and the cardinal reached for it. Just as his fingers were about to close around it Porthos took it.

           “You’d murder the queen just to see one of your favorites on the throne. Haven’t you got enough power already?”

           “It was never about power.” He reached for it again and it was snatched by Aramis.

           “Of course it was. You simply wanted your own puppet at the king’s right hand.”

           “You understand nothing.” Porthos took the letter again.

           “Well, why don’t you explain it to us then.” Aramis took the letter from Porthos.

           “He can’t because he’s too ashamed.” Porthos chuckled and the cardinal began walking off. He turned and came back.

           “The queen is barren. If the king dies without an heir France will be plunged back into civil war. Is one woman’s life worth sacrificing to avoid such a catastrophe? I think it is. I ordered her death because I alone can face the truth that no one else can stomach. Give me that letter.” He took it from Aramis and opened it to find it blank. D’Artagnan smirked. “How very cunning. You tricked me.”

           “Into making a full confession? Yes.”

           “And what use is your confession? The word of a lowly musketeer against a first minister of France. Who do you think the king will believe?”

           “The king might not believe their word cardinal but he will most certainly believe mine.” The queen walked around the corner with Treville. The letter slipped from the cardinal’s fingers as Aramis and Porthos stood aside. The queen advanced on the cardinal. Everyone bowed. The cardinal dropped to his knees in front of the queen. “Look into my face cardinal. The face of the woman you tried to kill.”

           “Hail holy queen.” The cardinal looked up. “Mother of mercy. What I did, I did solely for the interests of France.”

           “It is only because I believe that you are sincere in your devotion to the country that I have decided to spare your life. France needs you. And the king loves you. Your treachery would break his heart. If you ever fail in your duty again, I will not be so lenient. My influence with the king is stronger than you can possibly imagine. You have been warned, cardinal.” She glanced at d’Artagnan and turned. As she walked away the guards bowed to her. The cardinal stood and looked warily at the four musketeers in front of him.

           “Athos was your friend. Are you so ready to forgive his murder?”

           “It’s sad but we can always find new friends.” Porthos grinned.

           “And to be honest, he was a little moody.” The other three made noises of agreement with Aramis’ words.

           “And one more thing,” D’Artagnan spoke up from her position between Aramis and Treville. “We want Milady.”

           “She too has to account for her crimes.” Treville’s voice held the most authority of the four.

           “She’s yours. She’s of no further use to me.

 

* * *

 

 

           They had returned to the garrison to break the news of Constance’s disappearance to d’Artagnan.

           “Perhaps we’re worrying about nothing.” Aramis watched his younger lover pace the width of the garrison.

           “Constance wouldn’t just disappear. Something’s happened to her.”

           “She might be home already safe and sound.”

           “And what if she isn’t?” Porthos situated himself between d’Artagnan and Aramis.

           “Look I’m sure she’s fine, alright? She came to the garrison when she heard you were injured. You could see she was upset.”

           “You only have to look at her face to see that she adores you.” Treville walked through the gate.

           “Milady is on her way. She’s taken the bait.” They gathered their swords. Aramis pulled d’Artagnan aside.

           “We’ll deal with Milady and then go find Constance ok?” The four of them rode to the meeting place with Milady. She was standing in the middle of tree covered road. When she heard the galloping she turned and made a face.

           “The cardinal was unavoidably detained.”

           “So he has finally betrayed me? Well changes nothing. I’ve already won. Athos is dead.” They all smirked as Treville and d’Artagnan dismounted. She made a face and turned to face the man standing behind her. “I should have guessed.”

           “It seems we are both prone to resurrection.”

           “It’s amazing what one can do with a bit of playacting. And a pig’s bladder full of blood.” Porthos’ deep booming voice came from atop his horse.

           “Did your revenge taste sweet?”

           “For a moment. And then something strange happened. The world seemed diminished without you.” She walked passed Athos and he pulled his gun on her. “Shoot me and you’ll never see Constance Bonacieux again.”

           “Where is she?” D’Artagnan strode forward. Athos slammed a hand into her chest to keep her back. “If you’ve hurt her I’ll kill you.”

           “Oh. Friendship. So touching. Tell me does she know your secret? Does she know you aren’t all that you pretend to be?” She shifted her attention to Athos. “I warned you that there would be a final reckoning between us Athos. But before we talk about Constance how about we talk about the girl in your midst. I have to say she passes well. Much better than she did when I first met her. What you do with this knowledge I will let you decide. Treville, I’ll be waiting with her in the Reison Jacques in an hour’s time. Send them. No one else.” She approached Athos. “This is your doing. Not mine.” She turned and walked off.

           “It will be an ambush. She has no intention of letting any of us live.”

           “I should pretend I didn’t hear that about d’Artagnan shouldn’t I?”

           “Captain it’s not like you already don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

 

           They gathered in the armory. D’Artagnan cleaned her pistol thoroughly, remembering what Aramis had said at the start of this mess. Aramis was handing weapons to Porthos who was sticking them everywhere. Athos stood behind d’Artagnan and watched her as he finished arming. The all formed into a circle and Porthos was the first to extend his hand. The others placed their hands on his. He looked at each of them in turn.

           “All for one.” They all answered at once.

           “And one for all.” They dropped their hands. Treville stood in the door and pointedly turned his back to keep watch on the other entrance. Athos pulled d’Artagnan in for a hard kiss.

           “If anything happens and it doesn’t look like we can win. I want you to run as fast and hard as you possibly can. Get out of Paris. Go to Pinon. I’ve signed my lands and title over to you in my will. Become a woman of property but don’t forget your training. Find Ninon, if you can, and bring her to live with you. You two will get along just fine.”

           “I’m not leaving you.” Porthos gripped her hands and pulled her in for a kiss.

           “Love do as he says. We want you alive.” Aramis was the last to claim a kiss from her. He pressed his forehead to hers and slid the queen’s cross off his neck and onto hers.

 

* * *

 

 

           The street was deserted except for Constance. And empty wagon pulled up and stopped. Around her, she could see the men looking for a target. The wagon moved again and Porthos appeared from under it. He shot two men as Aramis popped up from between the horses and shot the men behind them. D’Artagnan and Athos threw back their covering and stood.

           “CONSTANCE GET DOWN.” They continued shooting with all the loaded weapons they carried. D’Artagnan could see Constance getting grabbed by one of the men and dragged. Athos grabbed two bombs and threw them. They threw some of the men advancing on them to the side. Aramis smacked on of the horse and they startled, running towards the other men. Sticking close together they began to move forward. As men appeared they shot and dropped the guns, grabbing loaded ones from their belts. Porthos engaged one man and dragged the loaded gun out of his hands. He hit the man with the butt and shot one of the other men. They drew their swords as they were swarmed. The man made sure to keep an open path between d’Artagnan and escape as well as between Constance and d’Artagnan. Athos made sure that they weren’t about to be overwhelmed and tilted his head towards Constance.

           “GO!” D’Artagnan surged forward and shot with her last pistol. She hit the man holding Constance in the arm and he let her go.

           “CONSTANCE RUN!” She lifted her skirts and ran. D’Artagnan engaged the man and shoved him into a support beam. The man spun and began to attack hard. Around them, d’Artagnan could hear shouting and clashing weapons and the occasional gunshot. The man knocked d’Artagnan to the ground and she spun up, hitting him in the stomach. She continued her momentum and slashed his throat as two knives thudding into the last attacker. She glanced down at her slashed shirt ties and sighed. They approached the covered portion of the road to find Milady holding a gun to Constance’s head.

           “One more step and I’ll kill her.” Athos slowly walked towards her.

           “Stop this now. You’ve hurt enough people.”

           “You dare to talk to me about hurt.” She shifted the pistol so that it was sighted on Athos. While her attention was distracted Constance shoved the pistol up, broke free, and ran to d’Artagnan. D’Artagnan pulled her into a tight hug and spoke quietly into her ear, calming her. The gun went off as Athos moved forward and caught Milady, holding her to his chest.

           “Enough. It’s over. Kneel.” She took three steps back and dropped to her knees as he unsheathed his sword. Aramis and Porthos stepped up to either side while D’Artagnan guided Constance behind Athos. “Do you have anything to say?” She reached up and ripped off the choker she wore to cover the scar on her neck.

           “Go ahead. Finish what you started.” Aramis and Porthos stepped up further.

           “You don’t have to do this.”

           “Leave it to the proper authorities.”

           “I made her what she is. Her murders are on my head.”

           “It’s you who should be on your knees. Now kill me. And do a better job of it than you did last time.” Athos sighed and lowered his sword. Sheathing it, he pulled her to her feet.

           “Go to Spain. England. I don’t care. But if you ever show your face in Paris again, I will kill you. Without hesitation.” She reached up and grasped his face, running fingers over his lips.

           “You know there can be no peace while either of us until we are both dead.” She turned and walked off. D’Artagnan stepped forward.

           “Milady.” She turned back. “They knew already. All of them. They know who I am and accepted it.”

           “I figured.” She glanced at them, as if judging them, and nodded. “Take care of her. She gets in as much trouble as you.” She turned and continued walking off. As she walked out of their sight Athos reached up and ripped off the locket. He turned back to his lovers and Constance.

           “I’m glad you didn’t kill her.” D’Artagnan held Constance to her side and was stroking her friend’s shoulder to keep her calm.

           “Perhaps I was saving myself.” He pushed through them and walked off, dropping the necklace on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan walked Constance back to her house. As they walked she rested a hand on Constance’s shoulder. Constance kept shrugging it off.

           “Someone might see.”

           “Let them. I don’t care. Your husband already thinks we’re having an affair.” She pulled her friend into a hug. They heard running feet and heard the maid talking about Constance’s husband trying to kill himself. Hey rushed off to her house. Constance ran into the room her husband was in, trailing the maid and d’Artagnan.

           “What have you done?”

           “I’m sorry. I’m so ashamed.”

           “How badly are you hurt?”

           “I thought you had abandoned me. I couldn’t face life without you so I tried to end it all.” He kissed her hand and murmured reassurances of his love for her. Constance looked at d’Artagnan as if begging her to kill her. D’Artagnan stepped forward.

           “She was kidnapped. She hasn’t been with me as I’ve been hiding from Porthos and Aramis. When they found out she was missing they went looking. I joined them as soon as I heard. She’s safe now.” She left the room and Constance followed her out.

           “I doubt he believed that.”

           “If you ever need me I will come. Send word to Porthos’ lodgings. I will come at the first word.”

           “You’re a good friend d’Artagnan. Now go. Make it look like I rejected you again.” D’Artagnan pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. She pulled away and kissed her hand then turned and walked out of the courtyard.

 

* * *

 

 

           They were in the palace when the king summoned them all to the throne room. The cardinal was the last to enter.

           “I never expected this cardinal. Not after so long.” The cardinal glanced at the queen who was staring straight ahead. The king reached out and took her hand. “The queen is with child.” D’Artagnan glanced at her fellow musketeers. Both Aramis and Athos had gone white like they had seen a ghost. They kept shooting furtive glances at each other as the conversation continued. As the queen left she made eye contact with Aramis. D’Artagnan brushed the thought of Aramis sleeping with the queen out of her head. Athos would have never let it happened.

           They waited for Aramis to finish his meeting with the queen. When Aramis came striding out d’Artagnan nudged him with her boot.

           “What did the queen want?”

           “She wanted my pledge to protect her child when it is born.”

           “Did you give it?” Athos was scowling.

           “I had no choice. She is the queen. What she wants we must give.” Porthos looked between the two.

           “What am I missing?”

           “He had an affair with Charlotte Mellendorf.” D’Artagnan took her glove and moved closer until she could slap Aramis.

           “Will you please stop. I’m feeling under appreciated.”

           “I never meant it that way d’Artagnan. It’s just who I am.”

           “Banned for a week. Longer if you go visit one of Flea’s ladies like the last time.”

           “It’s unfair that you two get along. She spills all my secrets.”

           “You should stop visiting her ladies. Then she won’t have secrets to spill.” They rode out of the palace still bickering.

 

* * *

 

 

           D’Artagnan slid into the court of miracles uncontested. She was dressed like a local in a ragged shirt, skirt, and shawl. As she entered the tunnels underground a man moved to follow her. She glanced over her shoulder and nodded at him, recognizing him as one of Flea’s guards. He would make sure that she made it to Flea unmolested. She loosened the grip on her knife and moved deeper into the catacombs. As she was about to make a wrong turn the man moved up and took her arm, tugging her gently in the right direction.

           Flea was seated in her throne-like chair when they entered. The masked guard began to herd the others out. D’Artagnan took a chair at the table and Flea joined her. Once everyone was out the guard removed his mask and went about pouring wine. When he handed the cup to d’Artagnan she smiled.

           “Thank you.”

           “I hear Athos let her go.” Flea took a cup of wine and waved the guard out of the room.

           “He banished her from Paris on pain of death.” Flea looked the other woman over.

           “You’re here to ask if Aramis has been visiting my ladies. He hasn’t.”

           “I was also wondering if you could put some of your people to watching Constance Bonacieux.”

           “You’re worried about her husband trying something. I hear that the queen might be looking for a new lady soon. I’m sure if you put in a good word Constance would be accepted. Keep it in mind.”

           “I will.” D’Artagnan looked back towards the door. “Is he your new lover?”

           “No one will ever match up to Porthos as I’m sure you know, but yes he is. He also leads my personal guards. I’ll have him choose the men that will watch Constance. I can assure you that only people I trust with my life will watch her. If anything happens they will bring her here and bring word to you.”

           “Thank you.” D’Artagnan and Flea moved on to lighter conversation topics as the sipped wine. Eventually, one of the guards came in to tell Flea that there was a musketeer at her gates looking for someone. D’Artagnan sighed and pulled her shawl over her head.

           “Aramis, Porthos, or Athos?” The guard looked at Flea for permission to answer. She nodded.

           “I believe it is Athos.” The guard led d’Artagnan up to the surface and she went to join Athos at the entrance.

           “Did you have to come find me? I was perfectly safe in there.”

           “Porthos is getting snippy.” He pushed her ahead of him and she made her way to Porthos’ rooms. As she let herself in she slipped the shawl off her head. Porthos saw her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her gently.

           “Is Aramis meeting Flea’s ladies?”

           “No. Much to their disappointment. Flea also will assign men to keep an eye on Constance.”

           “Will they blend in?”

           “I’ve seen the new leader of her guards. He’s committed. He escorted me all the way through the catacombs himself instead of sending one of his other men after me. He’ll either make them fit in or he’ll choose new men.”

           “So nothing like this will ever happen again.” Athos looked pleased with the arrangement. He wrapped strong arms around her and pressed against her back.

           “Does this mean Aramis is allowed to join us?” Athos sounded a little too eager. She glanced at the wardrobe suspiciously then pulled out of his grasp to open it. Aramis tumbled out and landed at her feet. She kicked his shoulder lightly.

           “Really Aramis?”

           “What can I say mademoiselle. You are enchanting even in those rags.” She rolled her eyes and stalked off. As she reached the bed she undid the laces that held her skirt closed and up and let it drop. She pulled off her shirt and began to gather her men’s clothes. A warm body pressed against her back and she sighed. She turned and leaned against Athos. Running her hands down his chest, she undid the laces and buttons on his doublet. She tangled her fingers in the laces of his shirt and let him guide her to a chair. Hands unwrapped her bandages and finger probed her wound. Aramis tutted slightly and took a clean cloth. Wetting it he brought it gently over the wound.

           “You got dirt in it.” She looked at the large metal tub in the corner near the fire wistfully.

           “I have dirt everywhere. If you didn’t notice Athos decided to make me roll in the mud today in training.” Athos followed her look and inclined his head towards the tub. Porthos nodded and rose from where he was crouched next to d’Artagnan. Grabbing two large buckets he left. He came back a while later and put the buckets over the fire. He pulled the tub out and, when the water was warm enough, poured the water in. Athos lifted d’Artagnan from the chair and helped her stand. Aramis undid the ties on her smallclothes and slid them off her hips. Athos pulled her gently to the tub and helped her in. Once in the warm water she relaxed. Aramis produced a soft cloth and began running it over her skin. Between the three of them, they got all the dried mud off of her. Athos pulled her out and dried her off. Aramis looked at her wound again and nodded.

           “I can remove the stiches. You’re healing well.” They settled her on the bed and Aramis gathered his tools. She whimpered as he pulled each stich out and gripped Athos and Porthos’ hands tightly. When he was done Aramis pressed a kiss to her stomach and bandaged the wound to keep any dirt out. Porthos grabbed one of her chemises out of the closet and helped her into it. They pulled the blankets over her and she felt Athos settle in next to her. Porthos and Aramis dealt with the tub and settled on either side of her and Athos. She let their closeness and the knowledge that they were all alive carry her off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back. 16 pages in word, almost 7,000 words. This entire chapter reminded me how much I detested Rochefort and Constance's husband. I actually cut so much of Rochefort's lines and just did a general description because I couldn't stand him. The opening scene got inspiration from that gif of Milady and Athos in the meadow where he's kissing up her legs. Now I'm off to try to puzzle through season 3 and how to best work Sylvie and the blonde woman with the new baby into all of this.

       D’Artagnan stretched lazily on the bed. Porthos pulled her back against him smiling. He ran fingers down her side and stopped at her hip. She let out a small noise of pleasure and pressed back against him. Athos looked over from the table where he was writing and sighed.

       “I can focus if you keep that up. You’re as bad as Aramis, Porthos.”

       “I’m only this greedy for our lovely lady here.”

       “Something that Aramis would do well to learn.” D’Artagnan sat up with her words and pulled the sheet off Porthos to cover herself. She wrapped it around her and stood. Porthos chuckled and watched her walk off, unabashed at his own nakedness. Athos watched her walk across the room and frowned when she pulled out her ratty clothes.

       “Charlotte…” She pulled on her smallclothes and turned to glare at him.

       “Athos she sent word that she wanted to see me this morning.”

       “Take Porthos at least.”

       “No. Her head guard is probably waiting for me outside.”

       “Charlotte…”

       “Olivier don’t call me Charlotte.” She finished getting dressed and stalked out of the room. She pulled the scarf over her head as she went outside and nodded at the man who was waiting for her. He pushed away from the wall as she started for the Court of Miracles. He moved up beside her as she entered the Court.

       “Athos picked up your trail about five minutes after you left milady.”

       “Alexandre what have I told you about calling me milady.”

       “Not to do it. I will, however, remind you that you are the lover of the Comte de la Fère. You are also the lover of Porthos, who Flea named an honorary leader of this place. I will continue to call you milady.” D’Artagnan sighed and looked back over her shoulder. She saw someone duck out of sight and nodded to Alexandre.

       “Go retrieve him. Keep him occupied please.” Alexandre slipped away and d’Artagnan entered the catacombs. She found Flea in the other woman’s private chambers.

       “Where’s Alexandre?”

       “He’s distracting Athos.”

       “Didn’t you tell him my people will do you no harm?”

       “Yes but he doesn’t like to let me out of his sight. What did you want to talk to me about?”

       “It might be good to talk to the queen about Constance taking the confidant and messenger position.”

       “Her husband?” Flea nodded and d’Artagnan sighed. “I’ll talk to her majesty today.” The door opened and Athos walked in. Alexandre followed him and shrugged at d’Artagnan’s look.

       “He didn’t want to stay put.”

       “Athos, she is completely fine with me and my people.” Athos opened his mouth and d’Artagnan glared at him. He shut it with a snap. Flea laughed as d’Artagnan walked out of the room. Alexandre followed her smiling slightly. As they turned the corner he pulled her scarf up over her hair and made sure it was secure.

       “For the record milady, I tried.”

       “I know you did Alexandre. He doesn’t like to be intercepted when he’s tailing me.” When they reached the steps to the surface he took her elbow to steady her. She heard Athos growl behind her and grinned. Alexandre stopped and turned around.

       “She’s like a sister to me Athos. Nothing more.” Athos looked him over and nodded.

       “I trust that she’s safe with you and your men should something happen and we aren’t around.”

       “She can take care of herself. I make sure a beggar is stationed near Porthos’ rooms in case she needs to contact us quickly but I trust that she can take care of herself. Something you should remember.” D’Artagnan rolled her eyes and continued up the stairs. When she walked out onto the street she saw Alexandre and Athos peel off from her. When she reached Porthos’ rooms Athos joined her and Alexandre stopped to talk to the beggar. She glared when she realized that it was one of Flea’s guards. Alexandre saw her look and shrugged. She walked into the rooms to find Porthos gone and Athos glaring at her.

       “If this is still about Alexandre I swear he is nothing to me. He and Flea are…” Athos grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss. She fought briefly before surrendering to the kiss and he pulled away. He spun her to undo the ties on her skirt, letting it drop. He stripped her of her shirt and went to the closet.

       “I really hate seeing you in those rags.” She realized why he was so annoyed and smiled.

       “And yet if I walked into the Court of Miracles in the type of clothes you wish to provide for me I would be stripped of everything I own.” She walked forward and cupped his cheek in her hand. “Athos you provide for me. You gave me everything I need to be a musketeer. You make sure I’m fed and clothed. That is all I need.” Athos turned and kissed her, removing her smallclothes. She backed up until her legs hit the bed, pulling him along with her. Athos pushed her down and knelt between her legs. She wiggled slightly and he looked up at her.

       “May I milady?”

       “Athos you don’t have to…” She moaned as he kissed up one thigh. He smirked as he moved to the other thigh and kissed up it. This time, he tongued her clit and pulled away when she moaned loudly. He grinned up at her as she swore at him and tugged his hair where she had grabbed it. He lowered his mouth back to her clit and sucked slightly. Taking a finger, he inserted it in her slowly and crooked it until he found the place that made her moan loudly. Massaging it slightly he continued to suck on her clit. He heard her swearing as she came. He pulled away and let her come down from the high. He glanced at Aramis who had walked in while he was going down on d’Artagnan. He wasn’t surprised to find the man palming himself through his britches.

       “Aramis if I remember correctly you were banned for a week for sleeping with one of Flea’s girls.”

       “Treville sent me. We ride out to a border town.” D’Artagnan sat up sluggishly and reached blindly around her for her smallclothes. Athos smiled at her and grabbed them from the floor. He handed them to her to put on and retrieved her half corset from where it had been tossed over a chair the night before. He glanced at Aramis and nodded in d’Artagnan’s direction. Going to the wash basin he splashed water on his face as Aramis helped the boneless d’Artagnan to dress. He grinned as she stood on shaky legs proud of his accomplishment. She gave him a dirty look and he smirked at her.

       “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

       “I can’t walk.”

       “I’m sure you can ride.”

 

* * *

 

 

       The three of them reported to the palace to hear their orders from Treville who was attending the king at the cardinal’s funeral. D’Artagnan slipped away from the group to go find the queen. She was in her rooms preparing for the labor that was to begin soon. As she entered the queen’s ladies sent her glares. The queen called her into her bedroom.

       “D’Artagnan. It is a surprise to see you here. When I heard a musketeer had come to see me I thought it might be your Captain or Athos on some errand from my husband.”

       “I would prefer everyone thinks that I am on an errand, your majesty. I came to ask you a favor. I have a friend. She is the wife of the man I was renting a room from before I moved into the garrison. Her husband is manipulative and a bit of a brute. He has never gone as far as to hit her but I am scared that he may resort to that soon. She’s a bit headstrong you see.”

       “Is she your lover?” D’Artagnan blushed and shook his head.

       “Your majesty she is just a good friend. She is a wonderful seamstress and an excellent confidant. The four of us bring her our clothes to be repaired and go to her with our troubles. I heard you had a position in your ladies open up and was wondering if you would be willing to take her on? She needs a safe place away from her husband.”

       “A seamstress you say? And a good confidant. She comes highly recommended by you.”

       “And by the others your majesty.” The queen grimaced and rubbed her belly slightly. D’Artagnan moved to get her some water. She had seen and assisted in many births in Gascony and could tell that the queen was probably starting labor. She handed the glass to the queen who drank it.

       “You seem less uncomfortable than most of the musketeers my husband has sent on errands to check on me.”

       “I was a farm boy before Athos, Aramis, and Porthos found me, your majesty. I’ve attended to many farm animals while they were in labor. A woman, even one as powerful as you, your majesty, who is pregnant is nothing compared to that.” The queen smiled and handed the glass back to d’Artagnan.

       “I will talk to my husband about hiring your friend. Go. I hear you have a ride ahead of you.” D’Artagnan turned to the door. When she reached it she turned.

       “Your majesty, should I have your ladies send in the midwife?”

       “How did you… farm boy. Yes, have them send her in.” d’Artagnan left after passing on the message.

 

* * *

 

 

       They exploded from the trees on horseback grinning as they egged each other on. D’Artagnan had recovered from her earlier jelly legs to win the race. As they approached the village they swung down to approach on foot, urging their horses up the hill.

       “We have no idea who this man is?” D’Artagnan glanced at Athos and tried not to blush as she thought back on their activities this morning. Athos smirked guessing what she was thinking about.

       “The Captain doesn’t know his identity.” Porthos pulled out a water skin and took a drink.

       “All I know is that we are to meet him in the village. He will make himself known.”

       “Why the mystery?”

       “The king’s council has been in chaos since the cardinal died. No one knows who’s in charge.”

       “At least we’re not in Paris pretending to grieve for him.” They all pulled a face at Porthos’ words.

       “They say he wore out his heart in the service of France.”

       “It’s a pleasant surprise to hear he had one at all.” The chuckled then Aramis crossed himself.

       “God have mercy on his soul.” He stopped to see the other three staring at him. “He’s dead. We can afford to be generous.” They saw the hangman’s noose go over the tree at the same time and spotted the villagers shoving someone towards the tree, up the path. The man was fighting. The four of them mounted up and rode up the hill at a canter. They tied up their horses and approached the man who seemed to be in charge.

       “Who is this man and what has he done?” d’Artagnan was trying to be polite but the man wasn’t inclined to answer her questions.

       “None of your damn business.”

       “We’re king’s musketeers,” Athos walked up and gripped d’Artagnan’s arm to keep her from throwing herself at the man as he passed.

       “So answer the question.” Porthos moved his bulk up beside Athos. “Politely.”

       “He shot our innkeeper in cold blood. A good man is dead and there are a dozen witnesses.”

       “There will be no lynching today.”

       “If there’s a case against him you can take him to the magistrate.”

       "Take off his hood and untie him.” As the hood came off Athos, Aramis, and Porthos looked at each other in recognition. The man walked forward pulling the gag out of his mouth. “Rochefort.” The man spat.

       “Musketeers. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.” D’Artagnan turned to the others.

       “Will one of you tell me who this man is?”

       “The Comte de Rochefort. One of the Cardinal’s right-hand men. His agent in Madrid.”

       “Go ahead. Hang him.” The villagers turned at Athos’ words.

       “You can’t just let them kill me.”

       “We’re late for an appointment in the village.” Porthos adjusted his glove.

       “With me you idiots. Dear God, why didn’t the Cardinal send the Red Guard instead of your troop of performing monkeys?” They turned to go to their horses.

       “The Cardinal is dead.” The villagers grabbed Rochefort.

       “I have news of vital importance for the king.”

       “Wait.” Athos turned and walked back to them. “My apologies. It seems we’ll take him after all.”

       “No. He’s going to pay for his crime.”

       “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it has to be.” Porthos moved forward again. One of the men punched him in the stomach. The four of them used their cloaks as weapons as Rochefort snuck towards the horses. They fought for a bit as he rode off. The village headman finally stopped the fight. Rochefort pulled a gun from his saddle and shot the man. The others ran for their horses. They set up an ambush along the road to the palace and easily caught Rochefort. D’Artagnan had spent the entire ride trying not to focus on Athos with his arms wrapped around her waist to keep him on behind her. Athos dropped off her horse and approached Rochefort. He stood there for a moment then punched him hard.

       “What was that for?”

       “To see how it would feel.” He glanced towards the others. “It felt good.” They tied him between d’Artagnan and Aramis and made him walk.

       “I demand you release me. I’m not a dog. I’m the Comte de Rochefort. The Cardinal would have had your heads for this.”

       “Pity he’s currently at his own funeral.”

       “He was a great man. His only mistake was failing to destroy you musketeers.”

       “He gave it a good try didn’t he?” D’Artagnan turned to look at Athos who turned away from them all.

       “France will be a more honest place without him.”

       “The last we heard,” Porthos smirked slightly, “you were rotting in a Spanish prison with no hope of release. What happened?”

       “I was being transferred to Madrid. By God’s grace, I escaped.”

       “Why not go straight to Paris?”

       “I needed protection. A lot of people would like to see me dead.”

       “I can understand the sentiment.” They continued their questioning, trying not to laugh at Rochefort’s outbursts and irritability.

 

* * *

 

 

       Athos watched as Rochefort made his case to the king. While in the Spanish prison, he had encountered the French General De Foix. The general had authored the strategy against Spain and it had been enough to get Rochefort in front of the king and queen. He was proposing a rescue, taking the four musketeers and himself deep into Spanish territory. Athos sighed as Rochefort attacked the Spanish ambassador. He and the others moved in to separate the two. They all smiled at each other slightly as the ambassador left the room and stepped back into their positions. Athos watched the interactions between the queen and Aramis, sighing as the two of the made eye contact. They left with the rest of the court.

       The three of them managed to dislodge Constance’s husband from her side, giving d’Artagnan and Constance a chance to talk. D’Artagnan had missed her friend dearly during the time they had been separated and they know that d’Artagnan had given her recommendation to the queen on the appointment of Constance to the confidant and messenger position.

       “I hope you’re well Madame.”

       “Very well. I’m moving to the palace but I suppose that you had something to do with that.”

       “I missed my friend and we needed to get you away from that dreadful bore.”

       “You shouldn’t have interfered d’Artagnan. This will only make him angrier with me and you.”

       “Constance I simply wanted to help you. Besides isn’t a position at court what every family wishes?”

       “He thinks we’ll be sleeping together.”

       “Might I remind you that I am not a man and that I will be living at Porthos’ lodgings?” She smiled slightly.

       “And how is that going?”

       “Wonderful. I have to go but we’ll have time to catch up in a few days. I promise.” She pressed a kiss to Constance’s forehead and left.

 

* * *

 

 

       Aramis split off from the group, making a beeline for the governess and the baby she carried. She spooked as he approached and he raised his hands.

       “You forget yourself, sir.”

       “My apologies.”

       “Bow to your future king.” Aramis gave a half bow and she smiled.

       “I only wanted to pay my respects.”

       “Perhaps there is no harm in it.” She moved closer to him so that he could see the baby. The baby waved his hand at Aramis.

       “He’s strong. And handsome.”

       “But of course. He is of royal blood.” She walked off and Athos approached him.

       “What?” He could tell that Athos was annoyed with him. “Athos. Sometimes I think I’m doomed, always to want what I can’t have.” Athos escorted him away from the door.

       “The dauphin is not your son Aramis. He can never be your son. Unless you confess to an act of treason and take the queen down with you. Imagine how heartbroken d’Artagnan would be if she found out that while you were wooing her, you slept with the queen.”

 

* * *

 

 

       “The king has approved of this mission. I am the one in charge.”

       “This is a musketeer mission. Athos is in charge.” There was no way in hell that Treville was letting d’Artagnan out with Rochefort in charge.

       “The king gave me his authority.”

       “The day my men take orders from the cardinal’s stooge is the day I resign my commission.”

       “For the sake of France, we must find a way to work together. I accept your terms.” Rochefort moved the paper map as Treville walked around the table. “The last person the Spanish will expect is their old prisoner, Rochefort. Naturally they’ll be grateful to the bandits that bring them in. You will be the bandits of course.”

       “If we’re caught out of uniform we’ll be treated as spies. That means instant execution.” Porthos was trying to come up with ways to get d’Artagnan off the mission. He knew she wouldn’t leave them behind but he could probably convince Athos to misplace her somewhere safe where they could come collect her.

       “Well if that prospect scares you…”

       “Say again?” Porthos straightened, ready for a fight. Treville stepped between them.

       “Porthos.” Porthos backed down and Treville walked away listening to their plan. He thought over ways to spare De Foix and keep d’Artagnan home. He knew that if De Foix couldn’t be retrieved safely he would be killed. He turned to argue with Rochefort on that matter. Rochefort walked off and they all turned to Athos.

       “We could always arrange for an unfortunate accident to happen on the road.”

       “Don’t tempt me.” He pointed up at his office and the four of them headed up. Athos pulled d’Artagnan to the opposite side of the dividing screen that split the room into office and bedroom. He lifted up her shirt and took the laces on her half corset.

       “You are not going to like me.” He began to tighten the laces and lessen any chance of her chest showing without her leather doublet

       “I don’t want her going with you.” Treville had his back to the screen. He heard D’Artagnan’s noise of annoyance.

       “I’m going Treville.”

       “She’s right Treville. It will look weird if we don’t take her with us. I’ll arrange for her to get lost and she’ll continue without us, meeting us there.”

       “Take care of her. I don’t want him finding out her secret.”

 

* * *

 

 

       They rode hard and fast, making camp every night. D’Artagnan wasn’t impressed by Rochefort’s torture stories and kept her cloak on. She slept in her half-corset, coughing in the night as it restricted her breathing. When Rochefort remarked that she sounded like she was getting sick, Aramis assured him that it was normal for d’Artagnan to cough. It took them three days to reach the border with Spain. Another two days to come near the castle. As they approached Athos saw his opportunity.

       “Ride on ahead. Get a look at the castle and report back. If anything goes wrong your mission remains, the same. Rescue him if you can but if not your orders were clear. Kill De Foix if you need to.” They had discussed the fact that if something went wrong she was to ride straight back to Treville, get the papers that gave her ownership of Athos’ estate, take Constance, and reinvent herself as the Comtesse de la Fère. Athos had a marriage certificate signed by a priest who owed him a favor. The priest thought that the certificate was for the mother of Athos’ illegitimate son so that he could be legitimized after Athos’ death. Athos hadn’t told him otherwise. He knew however that d’Artagnan would probably try to complete the mission on her own, leaving Constance without protection when she died herself. D’Artagnan split up, cresting the ridge to the side of the road and disappeared from sight.

       “Keep up,” Rochefort had fallen behind, “we need to stick together.” They rode for a bit longer before anyone spoke.

       “We must be getting close.”

       “Perhaps a half hour’s ride.” Porthos looked around cautiously.

       “Hold. Hold. Hold.” Athos, in front, stopped.

       “What is it?”

       “Wood smoke. Someone’s doused a fire nearby recently.” Athos drew his pistol, looking around. They spotted the ambush at the same time and dropped from their horses.

       “Get down!” The shots rang out and they drew their pistols, shooting back. They went for the heavily wooded area, giving themselves cover. When the shots finished they climbed up the ridge and took positions that would allow them to locate their attackers. Athos happened upon Rochefort hiding in the bushes and hissed at him.

       “Come on. What are you waiting for?” Rochefort made his way up to him. Aramis and Porthos went the opposite direction. Aramis stopped Porthos as he saw their attacks running through the bushes. They waited until their attackers were right on top of them and rushed out, knocking two to the ground. Porthos shot his and turned to face another. He hit them across the face with his pistol. Aramis knifed his attacker as Porthos threw his against a tree. Drawing their swords, they went in search of Athos and Rochefort.

       Athos followed Rochefort. As Rochefort went across an open area he waited until the man told him it was clear. Athos moved into the open and had his pistol shot out of his hand, into a bush. He dove after it, using the bush as cover. When he couldn’t get it or free his sword he turned.

       “Shot him!” When Rochefort didn’t move Athos glared. “What are you waiting for? Shot!” He freed his sword as a shot rang out. The man dropped at Athos’ feet.

       “What took you so long?” Aramis and Porthos rushed in.

       “I couldn’t get a clear line of sight.” Rochefort holstered his weapons.

       “How did they know we were coming?” Aramis repeated the question in Spanish to the guard that had been shot. The guard answered and Aramis translated.

       “They didn’t. It was a routine patrol.”

       “Did he get word back to the castle?” Once again Aramis translated both ways.

       “He says he will only answer to God now, not some French ba… well, then he questioned our parentage.” They watched as the man began to cough up blood. Aramis closed his eyes when he died and traced a cross on his forehead. “Go with God.” They returned to the ambush site and pulled the men they had killed out of the bushes.

       “Let’s take their uniforms. The castle guard will think we’re a Spanish patrol.” Aramis glanced in the direction of the castle.

       “If they heard our shots up at the castle they’ll be ready for us.”

       “We have to continue, no matter what the risk. We’ve come this far.” Rochefort turned towards them as they stripped themselves of their cloaks.

       “You don’t need to remind us of our duty. And if I tell you to shot, you do it.”

       “We should take their horses too, give ours a rest.” Porthos pulled on the uniform as Athos stripped himself of his dirty, slashed doublet.

       “What about d’Artagnan?” Aramis knew that she would have gotten away but wanted to play the part for Rochefort.

       “If he’s alive, he’ll find us.” They rode to the castle with Rochefort tied to a horse. When they entered they were directed towards the governor’s rooms. They tugged Rochefort along with them. Porthos grabbed the guard about to open the door and slammed his head into it. The door burst open. He dropped to his knees with both guns out and ready to fire.

 

* * *

 

 

       D’Artagnan heard the shots and turned her horse back the way she had come. Only Athos’ direct order to not come back until the next morning made her turn her horse the way she was supposed to be going. She rode up to the bridge of the castle and halted just out of sight. Pulling out her spyglass, she took stock of the guards. She wanted to find a way in. She didn’t doubt that her lovers had survived, but she wanted to complete the mission on the off chance that they hadn’t. She crossed the small bridge, keeping low. She pulled her horse up next to the river and spotted the small channel. Dismounting, she hid her horse and stripped off her cloak. Reaching around, she removed her corset so that when she emerged from the water it wouldn’t be too tight. She wrapped it in the oilcloth bag in an attempt to keep it dry so that it would chaff when she put it back on and tucked it into her pants. Her boots came off and she waded into the water.

       She swam towards the small channel that went into the cliff, keeping an eye out for guards. When she reached the channel she took a deep breath and went completely under. She saw the bars at the end and resurfaced. Taking another deep breath, she went under and began to swim down the channel. She had a knife clenched in her teeth so she could dislodge the bar. When she reached the bars she dislodged the one that had rusted all the way through. She slid through, thankfully her lovers hadn’t succeeded in fattening her up that much, and surfaced in what appeared to be a well. She climbed her way up. The bucket began to lower and she pulled to the side to let it pass. When the bucket began to rise she grabbed the rope, stopping it. The guard leaned in to see what was happening and she punched him. D’Artagnan climbed out of the well and dragged the guard with her through the nearest door. She hid him behind the carved screen and began to undress him. The door opened as she slid out of her shirt and a woman entered. D’Artagnan his behind the screen as the woman tested the water in the large bathtub and slid out of the rough shift she was wearing.

       “Please don’t be alarmed.” D’Artagnan clutched her shirt to her chest as she came from around the screen. She rushed towards the woman as the woman started.

       “OH my God!”

       “Shhhhh.”

       “Keep away.”

       “Don’t worry I’m a woman.” D’Artagnan let the shirt she was clasping to her chest drop enough to show her breasts.

       “You’re undressed.”

       “Not for your benefit I can assure you.” The woman glanced at the man behind the screen.

       “Dear God. Could you not have found some other place for your entertainment?”

       “No, he’s unconscious. I’m d’Artagnan of the king’s musketeers. I’ve come to rescue General De Foix.”

       “I’m Lucy De Foix. The general’s sister. They let girls in the musketeers?”

       “Sister? The Comte de Rochefort said nothing about a sister. As for the musketeers, besides my captain and my unit, no one knows I’m female.” She pulled the oilcloth-wrapped corset out of her pants and unwrapped it. It was damp in a few places but it wouldn’t be too bad. “Could you help me lace this?” She pulled it on and turned around. The woman began to lace up the corset.

       “Rochefort? He’s still alive?” She tightened it as tight as it would go. “Is that good?”

       “He is. And with us. At least I hope he is.” D’Artagnan tested the fit and nodded. The woman picked up her shift and pulled it on. She grabbed her dress as well and went behind the screen.

       “How many men do you have? Twenty? A hundred?”

       “One.” The woman popped her head out from behind the screen.

       “One?”

       “There were four more but I don’t know what happened to them.” D’Artagnan pulled on the uniform and helped to lace up the dress. They left the room staying close.

       “Where is Rochefort now?”

       “I heard shooting. I have no idea what happened to him or my lovers.”

       “You lovers?”

       “My unit.”

       “So they might all be dead?” The door at the top of the stairs opened and the two moved to either side to let the man leave. Lucy ran up the stairs and d’Artagnan followed. They burst through the door and d’Artagnan leveled her gun at the governor who was shouting about not being disturbed.

       “Change of plan.” She tossed a set of keys to the general who stood and caught them.

       “What’s going on?” He moved to hug his sister.

       “He’s a musketeer. His name’s d’Artagnan.” D’Artagnan approached the governor and held out her hand.

       “Sword.” She took it and held it behind her. “Sit.” The man sat and d’Artagnan checked out the door. The man laughed.

       “So what do you propose to do now?”

       “First, stop you talking.” She gagged him with her neck piece. “Hands behind your back.”

       “I have to say he has a point.” The general approached as d’Artagnan tied the man’s hands to the chair. “What exactly is your plan?”

       “For now, we wait.”

       “The guards check on us every hour.”

       “If my friends survived they’ll be here soon.”

       “We should make a run for it.” Lucy looked out the window as d’Artagnan paced.

       “No, we’ll never get more than a few yards. We wait.”

       “Your friends are dead. We have to save ourselves.”

       “We don’t know that.” D’Artagnan listened at the door and heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open. She heard the jangle of keys and pulled away from the door. “I’m sorry.” She cocked the gun and pointed it at the general. “I have my orders.”

       “I understand.” The steps moved closer and Lucy got to her feet.

       “No!” There was a loud slam and the door burst open. She saw a body drop into the room and Porthos drop low to keep from getting shot. She moved her gun from her target with a sigh.

       “You’re not dead then.” Porthos got to his feet and Aramis, Athos, and Rochefort entered the room.

       “Not even close.” Porthos approached the general, tucking the guns under his arm. “General De Foix I presume.

       “Yes.” Porthos nodded and turned to the others.

       “It’s him.” Lucy strode to d’Artagnan and slapped her. The general pulled his sister back before she could do it again.

       “D’Artagnan was doing his duty. I bear him no ill will and nor should you.” Aramis smiled, relieved for once that it wasn’t him being slapped. “Gentlemen this is my sister, Lucy.”

       “Sister?” Athos approached Rochefort. “Why didn’t you tell us she was here?”

       “A woman’s presence can only hinder our escape.”

       “If my sister stays I stay.”

       “It’s settled. She comes with us.” Porthos pulled the governor up and they followed him out of the room. Porthos gave the general his name when he was asked and ushered him out of the room. They moved into the empty courtyard and were ambushed. They took out a number of them, using the railing as cover. They moved inside and slammed the door shut behind them. Lucy told them about the possible gate in the back of the castle and they headed for it. They found the small courtyard and Athos shot the lock off the door. Aramis and Porthos moved a wagon in front of the door to bar it and they all ran for the gondola chair across the ravine. The general went across first. Porthos pulled it back across and jumped on. They pulled it back across and Lucy loaded onto it. It stalled half way through and d’Artagnan jumped onto the rope, going hand over hand until she was able to perch on the chair.

       “Forgive the impropriety Madame.”

       “At least you’re not naked this time.” D’Artagnan turned Lucy’s head away from her crotch and managed to fix the snag. They sailed across and Porthos caught them. Aramis sent the governor across next, riding on top of it.  Rochefort and Athos fought for a few moments before using their enemies’ belts to sling along the rope. D’Artagnan caught Athos and pulled him into a quick hug.

       “You’re alive.”

       “So are you.” Porthos cut the rope as a man tried to climb across. They ran to the tree line but the general was shot. Aramis tended the wound once they were far enough away. Lucy ripped off a part of her skirt to use as bandages. Porthos retrieved the horses and they mounted up. Lucy rode with d’Artagnan and she smiled when the woman fell asleep against her back. She used a length of rope to bind Lucy to her so that she wouldn’t fall and kept riding. They stopped where they had hidden their uniforms and put them back on. The governor punched Rochefort, throwing him to the ground He ran for Rochefort’s horse and Rochefort shot him. The four musketeers ran up.

       “What have you done.” Athos ran for the governor to check on him.

       “He was trying to escape. He gave me no choice.”

       “Nothing we can do for him.” Athos closed the dead man’s eyes and stood. “We’re expected in Paris. The king will be waiting for news.”

 

* * *

 

 

       Treville met them as they rode into the garrison. Aramis and d’Artagnan helped the general down and he was put in Treville’s rooms. Rochefort went to report to the king with the musketeers in tow. They stood as he took all the glory. D’Artagnan spotted Constance behind the queen and smiled slightly. They watched as Rochefort was assigned as captain of the red guard.

       “His scheme?” Porthos moved closer to Aramis.

       “Oh let him take the credit. We don’t need praise or glory.”

       “Praise and glory are two of my favorite things.” Porthos walked off and d’Artagnan smirked at Aramis and followed him back to the garrison. She stood on the landing in the stairs as Lucy came out.

       “How is he?”

       “The wound is infected. I’m afraid for him.”

       “I’m sorry to hear that. You know he’s a brave man.”

       “Would you really have shot him?” D’Artagnan nodded. “I’m glad you did not have to. You’re too good a woman to carry such a burden of guilt.” She pressed a kiss to d’Artagnan’s cheek and turned, heading back upstairs. D’Artagnan went down the stairs and found Constance.

       “The queen sent me to inquire about General De Foix’s health.”

       “He’s weak.” She turned to leave and d’Artagnan caught her wrist. “How is the job?”

       “It’s wonderful to be away from him. He was suffocating me. The queen is lovely and she speaks highly of you and your lovers. I just wish I wasn’t a woman in a world built for men. I wish that I had been able to make your choice and have the freedom that you do.”

       “If your husband dies I’ll marry you. Everyone already believes that we are having an affair. You’ll have your freedom then.”

       “If I want children?”

       “I’m sure one of my men would be willing to lie with you. Not Porthos. That would be a giveaway. Aramis maybe. He strays enough as it is and I would be happy if he only strayed to you.” She hugged Constance and sent her on her way.

 

* * *

 

 

       Aramis turned to place his saddle where it belonged and found the priest.

       “You’re the musketeer named Aramis?”

       “Who wants to know?”

       “I have a message from the cardinal.”

       “From beyond the grave?”

       “In a manner of speaking.” Aramis followed the priest out. Athos joined him and the two of them went into the catacombs. They stood in a cell that had plaques on the wall.

       “Well, what is this message?”

       “You’re looking at it Monsieur.” Aramis studied the plaques and traced one in particular. It had the name Adele Bessette, a year of birth, and a year of death. The epitaph read ‘Died for Love’. Athos approached it.

       “I didn’t know Adele was dead.”

       “The last I heard she’d gone to the cardinal’s country estate. I… I thought she’d made her choice.”

       “She did Monsieur. She chose you. The cardinal said you’d understand the necessity of her death. He killed her because she loved you.” Aramis grabbed him and Athos dislodged him. He shoved the priest out. “The cardinal knew all your secrets. He will expose your sins even from beyond the grave.” The man left and Athos turned to Aramis.

       “What if the cardinal knew about D’Artagnan? What about the dauphin? I couldn’t protect Adele. What if I can’t protect my love and my son?”

       “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

       “Who else can I blame? First Isabel, now Adele. Every woman I truly love, dies.”

       “We’ll protect d’Artagnan and its all the more reason to stay away from the queen. And the dauphin. Now come. I’m sure I can convince d’Artagnan to allow you back into her bed.” They left. Athos stopped by a seamstress that he knew to be discrete. He paid her and carried the dresses that he had made for d’Artagnan with him. Aramis took two of them and they went to Porthos’ lodgings. D’Artagnan was soaking in a hot bath when they arrived with Porthos washing her hair and her body. She saw the dresses and swore.

       “Athos…”

       “They aren’t court dresses.” They hung the dresses in the closet reserved for d’Artagnan and stripped off their doublets. Athos settled next to the bathtub and took her face in his hands, kissing her lightly. “I promise they’re nothing too over the top.” She relaxed and let Athos help her out of the tub. He dried her off with a length of soft cloth and took one of the new chemises. Sliding it over her head he took the overdress and slid it onto her. He laced up the front then took the matching bodice, lacing it up. His hands cupped her waist and caressed it, pulling her in for a kiss.

       “Athos…” He pulled back and looked her over.

       “You look lovely my darling Comtesse de la Fère.”

       “I’m not a comtesse Athos. Milady de Winter is the Comtesse de la Fère.”

       “She is dead as far as the legal system is concerned and I have paperwork stating that we’re married and that you have a claim to my land should something happen to me.” He settled her on the bed. Aramis and Porthos joined them.

       “I want to marry Constance if her husband dies.” She waited for their irritated arguments but heard only silence. She looked up at them to find all three with thoughtful expressions.

       “She would get your pension if you died which would give her an income and status as a former soldier’s wife. The garrison takes care of their own in the case of food shortages and such. She’d have her freedom to do what she wishes because you would let her do what she wanted. The only issue I see would be children.” Porthos’ voice was quiet. D’Artagnan looked to Aramis.

       “Aramis…”

       “Who says I want children d’Artagnan?”

       “Aramis as far as anyone is concerned it will be my child. I’d provide for it. The only reason I’m asking is because I don’t have the ability to father a child.” She smoothed her skirts and let her eyes drop to the floor. Aramis took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her in close and began to dance with her. Athos watched with a smile and Porthos joined them, ducking in between Aramis and d’Artagnan to steal her away for a waltz. D’Artagnan laughed as she was spun around the room, her skirts swishing against the floor.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long. I got caught up in life (my mom has cancer), work, senior thesis, other stories etc. If any of you are squeamish there is a lot of talk of menstruation and periods this time around. Nothing too graphic just mentions of blood and d'Artagnan's general annoyance with it. I just suddenly decided to throw this in as a way for the queen to discover d'Artagnan's secret. This is also a very d'Artagnan centered chapter.

         D’Artagnan slid out of bed trying to keep from waking her lovers. She moved to the closet and pulled out one of the new dresses, this one a dark green skirt and bodice over a crisp, white chemise and petticoats. She was trying to lace up the bodice herself when hands settled on her waist.

         “Let me.” She turned and Athos’ deft hands threaded the laces through the holes. “Where were you planning on going?”

         “I wanted to get breakfast for you.” She took the cloak out of the closet and tied it around her neck.  Pulling the hood up she headed to the door. Athos followed, pulling on his britches. He stepped into his boots and knelt down to tie them. She tossed him is sword belt as he stood and waited as he belted it on. The two of them walked out and she headed to the market. Athos followed close behind and watched with amusement as she picked through a selection of fruit. She made her selections and Athos stepped forward, paying before she could produce her purse. He took her basket and trailed behind her as she bought butter and bread. She bought some cheese and turned for home. Athos took her elbow and gently guided her back.

         Porthos and Aramis were awake when they entered. Athos set the basket on the table and pushed d’Artagnan towards the bed, taking her cloak. Porthos and Aramis hugged her as she climbed on and she let them press kisses to her lips and temple.

         “We were sorry to see that you had gone when we woke up this morning.” Aramis was half awake and nuzzled into her neck.

         “I got you breakfast.” Porthos moved from the bed to bring food back. She laughed as they fed her between their own bites. Athos climbed onto the bed behind her and let her sit between his legs. He brushed the hair out of her eyes when she laughed and leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her neck. She twisted so that she could grip his hair and tug him in for a real kiss. She pulled away with a sigh and began to undo her laces. Athos gripped her wrist.

         “D’Artagnan…”

         “We need to go to the garrison Athos.” She pulled herself off the bed and stripped. Aramis took her half corset and laced it onto her then got dressed himself. They walked to the garrison only to be sent to the palace to attend to the king.

 

* * *

 

 

         “If we might just prevail upon your majesty,” D’Artagnan, riding behind Athos heard the annoyance in his voice as he tried to talk the king out of his stupid idea. The king had decided that he wanted to spend a night among common folk without being discovered. She watched, trying to decide how best to get out of guard duty so that she could avoid the whole situation. Aramis had slipped off the moment they had arrived at the palace. D’Artagnan could easily track him down and make him switch with her. It was her monthly cycle’s time to show up and she didn’t want to accidently bleed through her clothes because she wasn’t prepared.

         “You there. Take off your clothes.” D’Artagnan’s head shot up until she realized that the king was talking to one of the gardeners. They rode into the palace and she asked leave from Athos to use the privy. She could feel herself starting to bleed. She knew Constance was around and she knew that the woman would have the cloth pads she needed. She trudged towards the queen’s quarters and spotted Aramis with the Dauphin’s governess. As she walked into the room Constance has been given she swore violently, not checking her surroundings.

         “Aramis can’t keep it in his damn pants again and I need some of your cloth pads, Constance. And some willow bark tea if you have it. The cramping is horrible this month.” She looked up and spotted Constance sitting at her table looking thoroughly amused. The queen was sitting next to her. “Your majesty.” She bowed.

         “Should I assume that because you storm in here asking for willow bark tea and cloth pads that you aren’t as male as you appear?” D’Artagnan winced then doubled over in pain and the queen got up, leading her to a small sofa. D’Artagnan dropped into gratefully and hunched over breathing deeply. Constance came over with the cloth pads and ushered d’Artagnan into her private privy. When d’Artagnan came out the queen handed her a cup of willow bark tea.

         “I used the get the worst cramps with my monthlies.” The queen settled next to d’Artagnan on the sofa. “Constance go ask Athos if he would be willing to give up d’Artagnan for the day to serve me. If my husband objects tell him that I wish for d’Artagnan to help me carry books from the library to my rooms as well as other menial tasks.” She turned to d’Artagnan. “You need to rest. Your cramps won’t get better if you are up riding horses and following after my husband all day.”

         “Tell Athos I’ll be back in time for tonight’s expedition. If you can get him alone let him know what’s going on.” She winced as another cramp hit her.

 

* * *

 

 

         Aramis looked down at the infant in his arms as he sang to it softly. This was his son. His little baby boy. For a moment an image of d’Artagnan holding a baby, singing softly as she rocked it to sleep rose into his mind. He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the image. That would never happen. D’Artagnan loved her job too much to ruin it by getting pregnant. He looked at the Dauphin’s governess and smiled as the baby quieted.

         “Is the child guarded night and day?”

         “You take your duties very seriously. Now, was it me or the baby you’ve come to see?”

 

* * *

 

 

         This had been a horrible idea. There had been a bar fight and d’Artagnan and the king had been grabbed by someone and chained up to a group of others. D’Artagnan believed them to be slavers. D’Artagnan thought bitterly on Aramis. If the man had been with them instead of in the bed of the Dauphin’s governess, they would have been fine. She tried not to double over in pain as a cramp ran through her abdomen. Yes, this had to be the worst. She was on her monthly, she was chained to a bunch of other men, she risked bleeding through her clothes, and she could barely move without her abdomen complaining. If she had been at home she would have been in a hot bath by now letting the water soothe her pain. Maybe she could have convinced them to have sex with her. They had all realized that it helped to reduce her cramps early on. But no she was stuck in the woods with petulant King Child, trying to keep him from doing something stupid.

         She was chained next to the king luckily and was near the front of the line. No one had bothered to search them yet. She was attempting to prevent the king from announcing that he was king and putting them in more danger. He, of course, blamed her for his stupid idea. The man in front of them fell over, preventing the king from saying what he wanted to. When the king complained about having to carry him she hefted the man up herself. The pain was horrible but she could manage.

         When they made it to the campsite they were tethered in place and made to give up all their valuables and weapons. She watched as the king gave up his ring and the bag was taken to a tent in a crevice higher in the path.

 

* * *

 

 

         Athos and Porthos slammed out the back door they had sent the king and d’Artagnan out. They expected d’Artagnan to be waiting there for them but saw no one.

         “D’Artagnan?!” Porthos looked around worried. “Your Majesty?! D’ARTAGNAN!” The two of them left the alley, looking for any sign of the pair. When they couldn’t find any they went back to the garrison, hoping that d’Artagnan had brought the king there. When they couldn’t find her there they went to talk to Treville.

         “Do you know what this means? The Dauphin’s christening is tomorrow. If Louis is not there it will be noted the length of Europe.” They spotted Aramis trying to slip into the room but ignored him in favor of the current problem.

         “They can’t have gone far. We’ll find him.” Athos was confident that d’Artagnan had brought the king somewhere safe and was waiting to be found.

         “Find him?” Aramis spoke for the first time since he walked in. Treville straightened.

         “Who’s the lucky woman this time?”

         “A musketeer doesn’t kiss and tell.” Aramis could tell they were mad at him but couldn’t figure out why. Porthos shook his head at him. Treville looked disgusted.

         “Find the king and do it quickly.”

         “The king is missing?” They all strode to the door. Aramis grabbed Athos’s wrist. “Will someone explain to me what is going on?”

         “While you were out having your affair with the Dauphin’s governess, don’t deny it, d’Artagnan spotted you, we were taking the king to see how the common people lived. He and d’Artagnan got grabbed and d’Artagnan is incapacitated.”

         “She seemed fine this morning.”

         “She wasn’t bleeding this morning. It started at the palace. After you slipped away. She spent the day in Constance’s rooms, curled in a ball and sipping willow bark tea most likely. We were going to take her home after we returned the king to the palace and stick her in a hot bath to ease her aches.”

         “And probably give her multiple orgasms to help the cramping.” Porthos’ voice was grim. “But now she’s somewhere with the king in pain and most likely in danger. She can’t perform to her normal standard because of the pain and she’s at risk of being discovered. All while you were bedding another woman.” The three of them headed back to the tavern they had spent the evening at. They assumed that the owner knew something since he had sent d’Artagnan and the king out the back door. In the light, they saw that the cobblestones outside the back of the tavern had been scrubbed clean. Using his dagger, Porthos pulled up some dirt between the cobblestones to find blood. Aramis was the one who spotted that the exterior handle had been sawed off. They went back in to question the man again. When the man refused to tell them anything Athos moved to the side to put Aramis loading his pistol on full display.

         “You can’t kill me. You’re musketeers.” The man ducked as Aramis shot one of the wine barrels. Porthos filled a tankard with a chuckle. “If I knew anything, I would tell you. I swear.” Athos tossed the axe he found to Porthos.

         “This will be quicker.” As Porthos moved to open one of the barrels and drain the wine the man flinched.

         “He pays me.”

         “Who?” Athos settled in a chair, pushing the man lightly. “Who pays you?”

         “He pays me to get people drunk and send them out the back door.”

         “Who pays you?”

         “I don’t know his name and I don’t ask. Questions like that they can get me killed.” Athos could tell the man was breaking under the combined bully routine of Porthos and Aramis. He leaned in like he was the man’s best friend. The man spilled everything he claimed to know. Athos could tell something was off but he went off what they had. They went to check the morgue and passed a woman with a daughter, looking for her husband. They didn’t find the king or d’Artagnan and learned that many people had been down looking for their loved ones who had simply disappeared after a night of drinking. The man that they were looking at was chained. The remembered an event two years ago of the same type and went to find the culprit’s brother, a blacksmith.

         “We’re looking for your brother.”

         “He’s in the Americas.”

         “We’ve heard he’s back in Paris.”

         “If he were back here I’d know. He’d have come to see me.”

         “We think he might be up to his old tricks again.” Aramis scouted the blacksmith’s forge and spotted the covered barrel. When he uncovered it he found human shackles. The man tried to attack with a hot poker and Porthos looped his feet neatly with a chain, yanking him onto his back. He picked up the hot poker and held it near the man’s eye.

         “We need to talk.” When they had gathered all their information they returned to Treville. As they told him what they knew he grew more concerned. They visited the harbormaster as Treville went to report to the queen. As soon as they discovered the most likely place they headed there.

 

* * *

 

 

         D’Artagnan stepped in front of the king as soon as the man drew his gun standing between him and the man with the gun.

         “I can’t let you hurt him.”

         “Well with you the problem is easily solved.” A second gun pointed at d’Artagnan.

         “Wait.” D’Artagnan spotted Milady who had followed her down. “Killing them would be a mistake.”

         “Look at his hands. He’s a gentleman. He has friends with influence who will have the authorities searching for us.

         "By the time they start searching for him we’ll be long gone. They are the fittest men here. They’ll fetch five times as much as anyone else. Would you throw money away?” The man walked off and Milady turned and left. D’Artagnan watched her go.

 

* * *

 

 

         D’Artagnan woke to Milady’s boot on her chest and a gun pointed at her.

         “Milady de Winter. I’ve seen you’ve gone up in the world.”

         “I’m not the one destined for a Spanish galley.”

         “Well, your new friends will tire of you soon. And then what?”

         “I thought you liked me d’Artagnan. You seemed eager enough once or twice.”

         “The thought of it makes me sick. I’d rather sleep with a polecat.” D’Artagnan moved, gripping the gun and tugging it from her grasp. She pointed it at Milady.

         “You won’t shoot me. It would simply assure your own death and that of the king.” D’Artagnan looked sidewise at the man and turned back to Milady at a jingle. She held a set of keys in her hand. “Give me the gun and I’ll set you free.” D’Artagnan handed the gun back to her and she undid their cuffs.

         “The leg irons.”

         “No time just go.” They ran as Milady walked off.

         They were recaptured after dawn. After a little bit, they heard fighting. D’Artagnan covered the king with her body until they could him to cover. She grabbed pistols from the men that had been shot and tossed one to the king. The man she had carried helped them to unlock their chains using the keys she had found and they took shelter behind a wagon. When they got the chance they ran. D’Artagnan heard horses following them and pulled the king along with her, shoving him behind a rock as she turned. The horses stopped Milady on one of them.

         “I thought you’d never stop running.” The king came out from behind the rock as she spoke. “Quickly, we must hurry.” They mounted up and d’Artagnan moved into the lead. When they got some distance away d’Artagnan stopped.

         “Wait here. I’ll see if anyone is following us.” She turned and rode back the way they came. When she came back she heard horses and shepherded Milady and the king behind some bushes. She rolled her eyes at Milady’s words to the king, knowing that the woman was conning him and held up the pistol as the horses cantered up. She stepped out with a smile.

         “Boy am I glad to see you.”

 

* * *

 

 

         Aramis, Athos, and Porthos cantered along the trail with the man they had found to lead them to the camp. He had been injured by a trap made to prevent the captured men from escaping. They heard noise and Athos pulled up his horse slightly as a figure stepped from the bushes.

         “Boy am I glad to see you.” D’Artagnan. Athos focused on her for a moment before he remembered his duty.

         “Is the king safe?” The king stepped out of the bushes. “Thank God your majesty.”

         “Allow me to introduce our savior. We owe this woman our lives.” Athos looked in the direction the king had come from to see Milady appear.

         “Your majesty she was part of the criminal band that kidnapped you in the first place. She should be held for questioning.” D’Artagnan glanced at Athos to see how he was dealing with Milady coming back into their lives. He looked shocked.

         “With respect your majesty, we don’t know what other crimes she’s committed.” Aramis moved forward and looked them all over for injuries quickly. They all ignored the king’s speech on Milady’s virtues in favor of watching d’Artagnan. When then men showed up to attack Athos sent the king to Paris with Porthos and D’Artagnan. D’Artagnan insisted on staying and as soon as the king was gone and took down the man who had killed Pippen. The man she had carried, who had been shot helping them escape.

 

* * *

 

 

         The queen’s look of relief was burned into d’Artagnan memory as the king walked into the church. They stayed for the christening, Aramis’ face seemed proud for some reason, then followed the king to the palace. There he ordered d’Artagnan to kill the man that had been promised a pardon. When she refused Rochefort stepped in and killed the man. She could tell that she had damaged the trust of the king more but didn’t exactly care. She and the other argued about it as they went to give money to Pippin's widow. Her men then dragged her back home. As soon as she was through the door they began to strip her. Porthos went to get water for a bath as Aramis took a wet cloth and gently cleaned the blood from between her legs. He set the cloth aside and stroked her hips as she finally gave into the pain of her cramps and doubled over whimpering. A blanket settled over her shoulders and Athos carded his fingers through her hair.

         “How did you manage?”

         “The willow bark tea her majesty gave me held the worst of it off.”

         “Her majesty?”

         “She was with Constance when I went to get a cloth pad. She knows. She asked for me for easy duty on purpose.”

         “I thought Constance was making that up as an excuse to let you rest.” She leaned into Athos’ touch as Porthos came back with the water. He poured it into the bathtub and helped d’Artagnan into it. She let out a happy sound as the hot water eased the cramps. A cup of willow bark tea was placed in her hand by Aramis as Athos washed her hair for her. She drank the tea and closed her eyes. She felt herself lifted out of the bath by Porthos and hands getting a cloth pad attached to the belt she used to hold it in place. She was dressed in a chemise and placed one the bed. She felt the other three pile into bed with her and Porthos and Athos’ arms were wrapped around her waist.


End file.
